Shadows of Time
by ElectricSkeletons
Summary: Third Installment in the Pandora Sullivan Series. Darkness crackles with fire and fury. Time is whispering to Pandora. Whispers of memories, splinters of light that fracture her dreams with icy lines. Her past has dissolved into nothing—memories fall into the forgotten, singed with glowing embers as she opens her eyes. The sun never rises for the sleepers of this world.
1. Patient 491

**Important note:**

This is the Third Installment in the Pandora Sullivan Series. So for anyone who was curious enough to find this by browsing know that in order to understand the plot of _Shadows of Time_ you need to read the first two parts.

For everyone else who is familiar with the story I hope you enjoy the continuation of Pandora's story, and the saga as a whole. Also I suppose it would be very rude of me to not thank you guys for the support and feedback, it means a lot to me.

* * *

_"Little Solace comes_

_to those who grieve_

_when thoughts keep drifting_

_as walls keep shifting_

_and this great blue world of ours_

_seems a house of leaves_

_moments before the wind."_

_-_Mark Z. Danielewski_, House of Leaves._

_Patient 491_

A clock ticked somewhere in the dark. Time was moving, but everything else was still and distant. There were moments before all this—there were moments of consciousness and waking laughter—but it had all faded into the recesses of neglect. There was only darkness and the ticking clock now. Those were the only things that matter. Her eyes remained closed. The beauty of sleep was only for the onlooker, not for the sleeper herself. With porcelain eyelids gently closed and a melting peace that seemed to settle in ever inch of her body it was hard to imagine that she ever was awake. Sleep grew in her veins like summer ivy. Sleep grew in her heart like a glaze of ice. She breathed, but she would not wake.

The first year of her coma she was placed in a room along a corridor lined with other rooms. She rested there still and quiet like a doll. Machines monitored her brain activity and heart. She was alive, yes, but her body wouldn't rouse. That first year soon ended. Medics cut her hair to her chin. It was easier for hygiene and efficiency reasons.

At the start of the second year she was moved to a place very few scientists traveled. A maze of chambers, corridors, and labs rested underneath the Panem Special Operations Building. That was where she had been moved. A steel hallway lined with reinforced doors. Each door had a window, and through each window the observer could see inside. A screen near the doors told the passerby the contents of the room. Most were empty, a few held experiments…others criminals. Rarely did her room welcome visitors—rarely did they bother to check on her after that first year of her coma.

Around her wrists was placed a plastic bracelet. In bold black ink it simply read: Patient 491.

Months of that second year went by, until the third year came. Her brain activity was analyzed and tested—the results came back inconclusive. The diagnosis of her coma was labeled _indeterminable_. The yearly reports stated that the odds of Pandora Sullivan ever waking up was below 10%.

* * *

Viktor Mironov was standing in a busy foyer. It wasn't the three years that had aged him. It was the strain. His wrinkles were slightly deeper, his hair much whiter—even his limp was much worse. He took to injecting his knee with shots every month to ease the tearing and pain. It barely helped.

"What was that?" Someone asked him from behind a monstrous desk.

"Adric Pedersen," He repeated, "Officer Adric Pedersen. I would like to speak with him."

The military official pulled the phone away from their face, "He's in training—level 15. You can take the elevator up, Doctor."

"Thank you."

He grasped his cane and limped across the marble. Several of the younger soldiers stared at him as he managed his way into the elevator and pressed the button. He was out of place in an establishment like the Armory.

Doors opened onto the training room. A few other soldiers filtered out. Mironov had to adjust his cane to push forward. His blue eyes shifted around the room. It was a busy day—the 73rd Hunger Games had just ended. Near the weapons he caught sight of him.

He paused for a moment before continuing his walk. Adric didn't see him until he was a few paces away—when he did he looked up from taping his hands and nodded.

"Viktor."

There was a bitter tinge to his voice, but it was restrained and buried under years of anger.

"Adric, how are you?" The doctor groaned as he took a seat on a bench nearby and glanced to the other soldiers in training.

"Fine."

Within those three years Adric had changed. Before he was mature, but even more so now. His facial bone structure were more defined and chiseled. He had even grown another few inches, making him rather tall. When he wasn't in combat, short stumble covered his chin. He had grown into being a man…but there were other differences. His hazel eyes didn't sparkle as they used to. Melancholia had replaced his grinning youth. The events that led to Pandora's coma had changed him, though he refused to discuss the matter altogether.

"I just came from the PSO. I ran tests on the brain activity."

Adric remained silent. He was almost done taping his knuckles.

"I—I think you should visit her."

"No."

"It may be good for her to hear another familiar voice besides my own. If you would just see her once, it could help substantially."

"What did your reports say, Viktor?"

Mironov dropped his eyes to his hands.

"What are the chances of her waking now?"

"10—10 %"

Adric let out a dark laugh and shook his head, "Maybe it's time you stop hoping for the best."

Mironov pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. He saw Pandora every day. He was the only person that he would allow to monitor her, apart from a few trusted medics. This was how he had coped with what had transpired the night of her birthday, the night the procedure had happened. He would always be in her debt, even if she were asleep forever. He wasn't waiting for her wake up, he was paying his dues. Adric was different. Adric couldn't bear to look at Pandora. He repressed any hope that she would wake up, and blotted out the memories of her as best he could.

"And even if she did wake up," he added quickly, "She wouldn't be the same, would she?"

Mironov cautiously glanced around before answering. "Pandora will be Pandora, just—different. She would be stronger, faster. The tonic acted to stimulate the portion of her brain that normal people can't use—at least not fully. She would be smarter. Although I don't think that's possible."

"She was dumb enough to believe in you," he blatantly quipped without remorse or a smile, "But that's not everything is it? There's always more."

Mironov cleared his throat with a nervous rasp, "The procedure had adverse effects on her brain. Memories would be a little hazy—emotions would be…unpredictable."

For the first time since Mironov's arrival Adric lifted his eyes and stared at him. Het let out another grave laugh, "_Pandora will be Pandora,_ huh?"

"Adric—please—we can't lose hope. She was strong enough to survive, she could be strong enough to wake herself up."

He walked over to a punching bag and smacked it a few times.

"Maybe I don't want her to wake up. Maybe she should have just died."

"You don't mean that."

"Three years, Viktor. How much longer are we going to have these discussions? She died the moment you put her into a coma. She's not going to wake up."

"Adric, you're the only person I trust to help me."

"Too bad I don't trust you."

"If you ever cared about Pandora, please help me."

Adric smacked the bag again and grimaced. "Pandora's dead."

"No."

"Yes!"

A few soldiers stopped what they were doing and stared. Adric pursed his lips and waited for them to look away before he turned his attention back to Mironov. His hands were shaking but with a quick inhale he calmed himself.

"I am done with this, you understand?" he whispered. "She's gone, Viktor. You need to let it go. I can't live in the past anymore. Three years will turn into thirty…she's never waking up. I promised her I wouldn't leave her, but that person in the PSO isn't Pandora. She's just a body. I get why you're doing this, Viktor. You feel guilty. You should, of course. But no amount of guilt is going to help bring her back."

Mironov furrowed his brow. His instincts were telling him to object to Adric's words but he couldn't bring himself to…not anymore. It would always be an uphill battle when it came to Pandora. But whether Adric liked it or not, Mironov and him were in the same boat. They were significant citizens of the Capitol, that much was true—and they loved their Capitol—but they also both cared for Pandora.

"If you saw her you'd know how wrong you were, Adric. I think you know it even now. It's easy to pretend but—"

"Get out, Viktor."

The doctor drew back and watched as Adric punched the bag a few more times. He blinked his eyes to the ground in defeat and pulled his glasses on. The cane squeaked against the floor as he rose to his feet and walked. He had traveled only a few steps before he peered over his shoulder.

"I heard about your engagement—"

Adric froze. A few heartbeats passed before he turned around.

"—Congratulations. She's a lovely girl."

Without waiting for a response Mironov limped out of the training room and into the elevator. Adric stared after him. The doctor's congratulatory words felt like slices of ice even though he knew they weren't meant to be. His eyes dropped to his taped knuckles before they closed. He listened to his breaths, felt his heartbeat. Adric was incomplete, and though he knew why he couldn't bring himself to face the truth.

* * *

A frail female medic hummed to herself as she began her rounds. The steel corridor was frigid and barren. It was just a monthly routine check, nothing more…only this time something was different. She had just reached the first door when a steady and low beep sounded. The beeping wasn't erratic or urgent—instead it sounded like the rhythm of a clock. Ticking and tocking. She leaned back with reserved surprise, briefly glancing down the corridor.

Five doors over a green light flashed. The medic rushed to check the information screen—the information screen of Patient 491. She widened her eyes and glanced through the window. The patient's brain activity was spiking.

Inside the room it was very still—apart from the beeps that ticked.

Pandora's short hair fell over her pillow in dark cascades of silk. She felt a single tingling and then another. Her fingers twitched. Then her toes.

Without a sound, Pandora's eyes slowly opened.


	2. Awake

_Awake_

It was dark when Mironov returned to his office. The PSO was deserted. Electricity and fabricated light buzzed through the helium bulbs above. He could hear himself struggling with breaths as he made his way down the corridor, through the security checkpoints, further still to his office door. As soon as he was close enough his shadow and footsteps came to an abrupt halt—instantly his brow furrowed in surprise. The door was cracked open. Faint light shed through the opening. His wrinkled had shook as he pressed it against the steel and felt the hinges give way.

The light was coming from the lamp on his desk. His blue eyes anxiously twitched around. The person he saw startled him.

"What are you doing here?"

The female medic spun around. She was gnawing her fingernails to the bones. Her eyes had a spark of madness in them.

"Doctor—where were you?"

Mironov rubbed his knees, "I don't see how that's any concern of yours. Why are you in my office?"

"I came here as soon as it happened. You said you'd be in your office all night."

"As soon as what happened?"

The medic shook her head. She looked like she was on the brink of a mental breakdown.

"I was doing routine checks on the lower levels, like you asked. I was about to start them when I heard the beeping—"

"Slow down, what are you talking about?"

He grabbed her shoulders to ease her, though it seemed to have adverse effects.

Again she shook her head. "The brain activity was off the charts—I didn't know what to do and you weren't here so I left her in there!"

Suddenly Mironov's heart stopped, "Who?"

"Patient 491. Pandora Sullivan. She's awake!"

"That's impossible."

"She woke up. I saw her. She was so silent, as if she hadn't been in a coma at all. Her eyes were just widely staring—even when I spoke to her she just stared!"

Mironov dropped his hands and stumbled back in disbelief. His fingers rubbed the side of his face. His eyes unblinking dropped to the ground. The chances of Pandora ever waking up were slight. For her to finally come out of her coma without any coaxing and stimulus was unheard of. A part of him was in denial while the other part screamed with elation.

"You're sure?!" He suddenly shouted.

"Yes, sir."

Without another word he turned around and started walking. He was moving his legs as fast as he could push them. His limped walk echoed through the corridors. At that moment he couldn't form coherent thoughts, all he could think was that it had finally happened. Three long years of waiting and Pandora had clawed herself out of the endless sleep. A warmth filled him, he was excited—but as he continued his rushed journey other thoughts repeated on loop in his mind. He was excited, that much was true, but he was also afraid. The fear raised the hairs on the back of his neck. If Pandora was awake it meant that they would have to deal with the repercussion of the procedure—repercussions that may be unpredictable.

Mechanics churned as he pressed his hand against the panel and limped in the steel corridor. The beeping had stopped but the green light above the door was still sporadically flashing. Suddenly his mouth felt dry. When he swallowed it hurt his throat. He moved towards the door cautiously, as if he was about to come face to face with a ghost—at this point Pandora Sullivan was a ghost, her name hadn't been used in several years. The only "appearance" that she made to the public of the Capitol were the ones that had been fabricated by the government. It was amazing how well you could manipulate film and photographs for your own selfish benefits. For all the Capitol knew, Pandora had never fallen into a coma.

First his eyes landed on the information screen. He read over the details of her condition, details he had memorized long ago. Adrenaline was rushing through his veins. It took all his strength to be brave enough to look through that small window. As he did he stopped breathing.

The door opened with a metal song.

He was frozen in the doorway, but his eyes darted around with shock.

The bed was empty. Wires dangled off the pillow. His lips felt cracked. The medic was telling the truth. But where was Pandora?

"Hello, Viktor."

A gust of breath escaped blew past his teeth. His gaze moved from the bed to the far corner of the room, the cane in his hand dropped as soon as he locked eyes on her.

Pandora was patiently sitting in a chair. Her back was straight, her eyes calm. She was still wearing a paper gown. A whisper of a smile was on her face. She looked content.

"P—Pandora."

It was all he could manage to say. His hands shook. Sitting only a few feet away was a conscious Pandora Sullivan.

She furrowed her brow. Her head softly tilted. "You look pale."

"It's a miracle…"

"What is?"

Without thinking he walked towards her and knelt to her side. His hands carefully reached for her face. She blinked as he delicately put his fingers on her jaw and near her forehead.

"You're awake."

Her smile dropped for a moment, "You're happy."

"Of course."

Slowly she mimicked his actions, her fingers traced the crows feet near his eye. "You're crying."

Her words were simple observations. There was no emotion behind them, only facts, but Mironov was too eager to notice how strange that was.

"I'm just—it's a miracle!" he repeated.

She widened her eyes as he grabbed her hands and laughed.

"I've been waiting so long for you to wake up."

Her gaze shifted between their hands and his face. She kept tilting her head from left to right as if she was memorizing his expression. Quietly she let him touch her hair and cheeks again.

"How did I get here?" she finally asked.

He stopped moving. "You don't remember?"

"Did I have an accident?"

He parted his lips, "Pandora. What's the last thing you remember?"

She glanced to the bed she had been sleeping in for 3 years. "It was my birthday. I was wearing white. There was no cake."

Mironov placed his hand over his mouth, "And?"

Her eyes narrowed. She was thinking hard but nothing was coming to her. "That's it."

"Pandora—You've been in a coma for three years."

Mironov expected her to gasp, to show some signs of shock, but she didn't. In fact she seemed completely unaffected. It was then that he noticed she wasn't as emotional as a normal person would be. Something was off.

"You seem distant," he pried.

"Do I?"

He squinted his eyes, "Perhaps you're in shock?"

Pandora thought about the question for a moment, "No."

"You just found out that you were asleep for three years. Three years of your life. You don't feel anything?"

"Should I feel something?"

His stomach squirmed. The air in the room suddenly felt eerie and chilled.

"Sir—"

The medic was at the door. She had calmed down slightly but only slightly.

"Do you need help?"

Mironov peered over his shoulder, "Yes. Um—get Miss Sullivan some clothing. Set up a room with food and water for her."

"Right away."

When he turned back he was surprised to see that Pandora was smiling. She looked genuinely happy—and yet the sight unnerved him. He grabbed the armrest and forced himself to stand though his knee ached tremendously. Her eyes followed him as he moved to where his cane lay.

"You must be hungry," he whispered, "The medic should be back with some clothing for you to wear."

Before he could reach for his cane, Pandora lifted herself from the chair and walked to his side. She peered to him as she plucked it off the ground and into his hand.

"You didn't used to use a cane."

It was suddenly hard for Mironov to look Pandora in the eye. "Yes—age you know, it catches up with you."

Her hand stayed on his for some time before she let go.

"Here we are!" The medic had returned. Her arms were full of clothing, "You must be freezing in that…" she whispered to her.

Pandora stared at the medic vacantly.

"Here—" she repeated, "For you."

She remained silent.

The medic nervously laughed, "C'mon. Go ahead."

Mironov worriedly studied Pandora, "What room did you have the food set up in?"

"Just down the hall, second room on the left. I thought you'd want to it to be close." she was drawing back in confusion.

"Alright, please escort her in there when she's dressed. Then bring in some monitors. I'd like to run some tests—" he looked to Pandora, "Don't worry, it's only to make sure everything is alright."

Pandora glanced to him and nodded, "I'm not worried."

"Good—" he pursed his lips, "That's good."

But it wasn't good. Pandora should have been worried, she should have been anxious and shocked—she was none of those things. He dropped his eyes and made his way out. The door shut behind him. He needed to run some tests and he needed to run them quickly.

After Pandora got dressed the medic led the way to the room. The floor was cold beneath Pandora's bare feet.

"My hair is short," she observed as they walked.

"Oh yes—they cut it to your chin a long time ago, it was easier that way."

She took a strand in her fingers and eyed it.

Mironov was waiting for her when she arrived. He was sitting at a table. Across from him was a plate of food and glass of water. The doctor hadn't told anyone about Pandora. He wanted time to figure out if everything was fine. In front of him was a syringe and portable brain monitor with wires. He was scribbling in a notebook as the door opened.

"Hello."

Pandora nodded to him and pulled on her sweater sleeve.

"You can sit."

"Thank you."

She felt the cool metal through her pants. Her eyes lowered to the food.

"You should eat, it might be strange after being asleep for so long but it'll be good for you."

Quietly she picked up the fork.

He patiently waited for her to finish the meal before he started talking again. She ate methodically and slowly—briefly glancing at each piece of food before putting it in her mouth. When she was done she drank half the glass of water and lifted her eyes.

"I have a few tests I'd like to run, if that's alright."

"Of course."

"Can I have your arm?"

Almost immediately she extended it. There was no hint of fear or apprehension in her eyes. Confidently she waited.

He inserted the syringe and cleared his throat as he drew blood.

"You have very quick hands," she noted. "I see how you were able to sew me up so well."

Mironov peered to her and pulled out the syringe, "You remember that you were stabbed?"

"Of course."

He fell silent once more. Next he set up the brain monitor.

"I'd just like to see how everything is inside there," he placed wires on her forehead, temples and on the back of her neck—when he placed it on her neck he noticed the scar that the procedure's needle had left there. A heartbeat passed before he was able to regroup his thoughts. "I'm going to ask you just a few questions. Write some things done. Is that alright?"

She smiled with a nod.

"Good."

He picked his pen up and waited for an imaged of her brain to appear on the small screen.

"You can't remember how you fell into a coma?"

"No."

"Would you like to know?"

She tilted her head. "It doesn't matter."

He furrowed his brow, "I performed a procedure on you. You were a candidate, you remember that?"

"Candidate…" she whispered the word—quickly an image of Snow blinded her vision and then disappeared, "I remember I was a candidate."

"You didn't want the procedure, it was forced on you. You went into shock, I had to induce a coma."

Pandora placed her hands on the armrest and stared. She had no recollection of any of this, but another image appeared through the fog: a young man with blonde hair and a grave expression.

"Adric."

Mironov froze, "You remember Adric?"

She looked to him, "Yes."

"He was worried."

"Yes, Adric worries a lot."

This made the doctor smile. "He does."

Silence fell.

"I'm going to start with the questions now, alright?"

He adjusted the pen in his hand and cleared his throat. He had a list of topics he was going to go through—it was a test for emotional responses. He could feel his hands getting sweaty. The test was makeshift. He had done it in a matter of minutes.

"Tell me about District 7."

"It's where I was born."

"Yes, it's where you're from but tell me about it. Can you describe it?"

Pandora furrowed her brow and straightened her back. She thought her answer had been satisfactory but apparently it wasn't. Mironov noticed that her posture was much more proper than it used to be.

"Its resource is lumber. There are many trees. It's green."

He scribbled her answers down and looked to the screen.

"What's you're family like?"

"I have two brothers, a sister. My father is dead. My mother is alive."

Mironov motioned for her to continue, which seemed to confuse Pandora.

"…I haven't seen them for a long time."

His eyes moved to the monitor and his face darkened as he scribbled more things down in his notebook. Pandora watched him carefully.

"You're not happy with my answer."

"No—no—it's fine," he responded with surprise, "Let's continue."

She leaned back once more.

"Tell me about a nice memory you have with your family."

"I would hunt with my brothers. We would go out in the woods and hunt, which was nice."

Her voice sounded very detached.

"How did it feel when you were reaped for the Games?"

He stared at the screen, waiting for her response.

"I was frightened."

"Why?"

"Because I thought I was going to die."

"Are you afraid of death?"

Pandora thought. Mironov's lips parted as he noted something on the screen as soon as he asked the question. He peered to her just before she answered.

"No."

"But—you said you were frightened because you thought you were going to die."

"I was frightened. I'm not frightened now."

Her brown eyes watched his pen swirl ink into the notebook.

"Alright…Do you remember your teammate Marius Bishop?"

Pandora recalled his face in her memory and nodded, "Yes."

"What happened to him?"

"I killed him."

Mironov's eyebrows were knitted together.

"How did you meet Finnick Odair?"

This time she was at a loss for an answer. She tried to think but nothing was coming to her. "I can't remember."

"But you remember him?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what happened with Finnick."

"We were in a relationship. Then we weren't. He left because he didn't love me."

"Did you love him?"

She followed his gaze to the brain monitor and narrowed her eyes, "Love?"

Mironov lifted his eyes, "Yes, did you love him?"

This question confused her, "I—I don't know."

His eyes were glued to Pandora. She wasn't reacting to the questions as he thought she would. There wasn't only a change in her physical lack of expression, but in her voice and answers.

A deep sigh left his lungs as he stared at the brain monitor. "Alright. I think that's enough for now."

"Did I pass?" She whispered with a smile.

Mironov stared at the chicken scratch in his notebook before slamming it shut and meeting Pandora's eye line. "Of course."

Her smile grew as pulled on her sweater sleeves once more.

Mironov tried to cloak his concern. The truth was that she had failed the test completely. He paused for a long while. He was trying to take it all in, trying to think of what to do next. Then he remembered some of the measures he had taken to stabilize her brain and memories soon after Pandora had fallen into a coma. His eyes quickly darted to her face.

"Pandora—would you like to get some fresh air?"

"Yes, I would."

"Great—follow me."

They exited out of the room and down the hall. The medic was still on duty. He waited for Pandora to walk ahead before he spoke.

"Can you call Office Adric Pedersen for me?"

"Yes, sir. What do you want me to tell him?"

"Tell him I have something to show him. Tell him to meet me on the roof, yes? Call me when he arrives."

"Okay, sir."

Mironov rubbed his beard as they traveled through the corridors to the elevator. Pandora was to his side. Although there was no clear way for Mironov to know the full outcome of the procedure, he just knew that something was different. His initial fears—really only fears—of the trauma and serum being introduced to her system were the mental responses that would occur. And for that reason he took certain lengths in salvaging the old Pandora Sullivan. The system he used was archaic and simple, but it was the only way she stood half a chance. Using selective memories he had formed tethers in Pandora's brain to who she was before the procedure and who she would be after—or rather the worst she could become. Because memories of events or stories were shaky ground for any normal brain Mironov chose a different route…memories of people. There were two tethers constructed in Pandora's brain, these tethers were chosen because they had a higher chance of eliciting an emotive reaction. Finnick Odair was the first. A tether, which seemed to be disrupted by something. The second was Adric Pedersen. The problem of course with tethers is that they are only activated by the presence of the memory in the flesh, sometimes even then it doesn't mean much.

"The view from the top is beautiful. I'm sure you'll enjoy the fresh air after being asleep for three years."

"Yes, I'm sure."

"It must have been terribly lonely while you were sleeping."

Pandora glanced to the numbers, "No. It was quiet. I had my dreams to keep me company."

Out of curiosity Mironov was about to ask what she dreamed about but then the elevator doors opened. A flight of stairs rested before them. It took a while for him to make his way up each step.

The air was cold on top of the roof. City lights dazzled all around them. Even in the dark Pandora could see the mountains beyond the buildings. She took a step forward, and then another. She didn't stop until she reached the ledge. The wind turned her nose and cheeks pink. Her hair danced around her face.

"It's cold," she whispered.

"Yes."

"The lights—I remember these lights."

Mironov smiled, "There not easy to forget."

Her hands rested on the stone ledge. "No. They aren't."

Ringing echoed from the doctor's pocket. He fumbled for the slick phone and pressed it against his face. "Yes?...alright…no, no… I'll come get him."

Pandora arched her eyebrow. She noticed how restless Mironov was.

"I'll be right back. You stay here, okay?"

"Alright."

He quickened his steps down the flight of stairs. Cursing his knee each step he took. Adric was waiting with the medic by the elevator. Underneath his eyes were dark circles. His hair was disheveled.

"You woke me up, Viktor."

"Yes, I know."

"It's 3 in the morning."

"I know."

The doctor rubbed his hands together and steadied his breaths.

"So what was the emergency?"

"I have something to show you."

Adric narrowed his eyes and groaned, "It couldn't wait?"

"I didn't think you'd want this to wait. Follow me."

Adric tiredly traveled up the steps and through the door. Mironov was babbling about something but he didn't care enough to listen. His eyes were still on the ground when they took the final step onto the roof. Wind cut through his shirt and trousers.

"That was fast…"

The breeze dulled the voice but it still made Adric's lungs collapse with a gasp. His lips parted. His eyes lifted.

At first all he saw was her back…but then she turned around. When Adric saw her face he immediately took a step back and shook his head. Her hair was much shorter, and her face more womanly but there was no doubt that it was her.

His breathing trembled. It was like a dream—a mirage that would fade away at any second. He clasped his hand to his chest and blinked his eyes. It was impossible.

When she looked at him a strand of hair blew across her face.

"Adric?" she sounded shocked, the first hint of emotion Mironov had seen Pandora show.

Adric felt his knees shaking.

Her brown eyes glimmered with life, just as he remembered they used to.

"You look like a grown man," she whispered.

Her steps to him were slow and watchful.

Just as she had done to Viktor, she reached for Adric's face. He gasped and drew back at first, but then he felt her fingers and stopped. She rubbed her fingertips along his nose and around his eyes. She looked fascinated.

"My friend," she whispered with a growing smile.

Adric speechlessly stared. He felt tears stinging his nose and eyes, but he refused to cry. Time had hardened his tears.

"You remember me don't you?" She asked, "Was I asleep that long?"

He opened his mouth but only a single breath quaked from his lips.


	3. Side Effects

_Side Effects_

Distorted reflections appeared in the surface of the glass elevator as it started to ascend. Reflections of Pandora's face and body. She quietly watched the glass replications of her face and form. It was strange to wake up with the knowledge that you had been asleep for three years, but it was even stranger to look at yourself and see how much you had grown up in those sleeping three years. She still looked like herself, but her features were sharper and her body more womanly.

Pandora was wearing a high collared jackets, grey trousers, and black lace up boots. She clasped her hands together and returned her eyes to the numbers on the elevator. They were almost there.

"I hope it wasn't hard for you to fall asleep last night—I can imagine that you weren't tired at all."

Mironov was nervously thumping his fingers against a file he held. Pandora didn't look at him.

"I slept well."

"Don't be nervous—they just want to see how you are."

"I don't understand what you're implying."

"I'm only saying that it would be alright if you felt uneasy. You have been through a lot, after all."

"Uneasy?" She dropped her eyes to the ground. Pandora was sure that long ago that emotion had over taken her, but for some reason it had no meaning now.

"Well, yes..."

"I don't understand."

Fear burned inside him. He had to look away from her.

A few hours after Pandora awoke from her coma Mironov was forced to send the good news to several officials throughout the Panem government. The response was immediate, as he knew it would be. To be honest he was more nervous than Pandora. The tests he had run last night had birthed mediocre results—particularly the emotional response test. Her blood work came back positive—the serum had successfully changed her DNA. Though the change wasn't physically visible there had already been clues that it had occurred. Unlike before, Pandora now had perfect posture. She always had a touch of gracefulness, but even more so now. Her responses to different stimuli had also changed. She didn't feel anxiety, or any clear signs of depression. She was, for all intents and purposes, void of emotional turmoil. This troubled Mironov who thought that it would have been healthy and normal for her to be in emotional distress. Then there were the memories. It wasn't that she couldn't remember things. It was that her responses to certain memories were uncharacteristic of how they were before. The file in his hands held the results of the tests.

The elevator doors opened up. Pandora waited for the doctor to exit before she did. Large windows allowed grey light into the building. Outside black and charcoal clouds bruised the sky. Thunder rumbled. A storm was waiting to crash across the sky.

"It's going to rain," she observed, her eyes momentarily glancing to the clouds.

Mironov rubbed his lips together and nodded, "Yes, summer's almost ending."

Her boots marched against the marble floor.

"The room is large but don't let that scare you. Just remember no one's going to hurt you."

She coldly returned her eyes back to the path ahead, "I'm not afraid."

Mironov knew she meant it. He wished he could say the same thing.

When they arrived at the doors two soldiers nodded to them. One in particular stared wide-eyed at Pandora, she replied with a distant glare that made him shift uneasily. That was another difference that Mironov had observed. Her presence left many people she came into contact with intimidated.

"How is Seven?" she suddenly asked.

"He's good—Adric's been keeping him. The two are rather close now," Mironov stammered. He was thrown off by the question.

Pandora tilted her chin up, "I would like to see Seven after this."

"Of course."

His brow furrowed. Her wording was strange.

Slowly the doors creaked open. Inch by inch they revealed the cavernous room waiting for Pandora. She lingered for a heartbeat before walking. The echo of her steps became louder upon entering the room. Above them was a glass dome, columns lined either side of the room. The floor was polished black and white marble. She lifted her eyes to a large panel of officials once she got to the center of the room. The large black desk was made of marble—just like the floor. The gold crest of the Capitol glimmered in the center of the stretch of black. Five officials sat behind the desk, but she only recognized two. The first was President Snow, the second General Trajan Pedersen. They stared at her in a moment of disbelief followed quickly by slanting glances to each other.

Silence fell.

Pandora adjusted her hands and waited patiently, she had expected one of the officials to speak first but instead Mironov raised his voice.

"Good morning."

Snow hadn't aged much in those three years, although Pandora noticed his hair was much whiter. He still wore a white rose on the lapel of his suit. His cold eyes were glued to her, but it didn't bother her. She was surprised at the absence of emotion she felt when she looked at him. There was no disdain or hate—she felt numbed.

"Good morning, Viktor," Snow finally replied.

"Last night I performed tests on Miss Sullivan, the results of which were positive."

"Can you say for sure that the serum worked?" Trajan interjected, leaning forward to eye Pandora. She smiled at him, a gesture that made Trajan narrow his eyes.

"Yes. Although I believe to see the full results she would have to undergo more physical tests."

It was strange to Pandora that no one was addressing her. They spoke as if she wasn't even there. Quickly she surmised that the purpose of her presence was to prove that she had awakened and to reveal that she was acclimating well to post-coma life. Mironov had explained the details of her coma, of the procedure they had performed, to Pandora and yet she was unemotional about it all. Her body felt very strong, as did her mind. Within the small amount of hours that she had risen from her coma she noticed that she was picking up on observation and details around her that she never noticed before. A sense of loyalty had swept over her when she saw Adric on the roof, but it vanished as soon as he had.

"Physical tests?" Trajan snooped.

"Military training tests, General. If all went well she should be stronger, more combat adept."

She glanced to Mironov. He was sweating and worried.

"She's quiet," Snow said.

The doctor swallowed hard. He turned to Pandora and nodded, "Well she's still familiarizing herself."

"It's alright, Viktor," Pandora abruptly cut in, her eyes moved to Snow, "Mr. President if you have questions to ask me I'll answer them but unless you address me directly I don't see the point in speaking."

Trajan leaned back and widened his eyes. She sounded so polite and respectful. Even Snow paused for a moment.

"Of course," he replied, "I hope you're feeling well, Miss Sullivan."

"After a three year nap how can I not."

A few members of the panel started laughing. She smiled with nod. She had known that joke would prompt amusement from her overseers.

"Still charming, as ever." Snow laughed, "It's good to see that you haven't lost your sense of humor."

She bowed in thanks.

Mironov adjusted the file in his hands. Her confidence and steadiness was unsettling to him.

"I think we all would like a demonstration, Viktor," Trajan said, "Of her physical capabilities."

"Yes—um—well I'm sure soon we can arrange that."

"No, now."

He let out a laugh, "Well she hasn't been prepared."

Pandora kept her eyes on the officials. She noted their uniforms. They were all military officers of differing ranks, although all were highly decorated. The President was the only politician on the panel. Trajan being the most decorated officer was seated to Snow's right.

"Why don't we ask Miss Sullivan if she feels prepared?" Snow inquired. He grinned as he waited for a response.

Pandora twitched her eyes to him and without missing a beat spoke, "What did you have in mind?"

"A sparring—nothing over the top. Just to see how strong you are."

"I feel prepared."

"Wonderful. Trajan can you send in a soldier?"

The General whistled for an Avox to approach and quietly whispered orders in her ear. Pandora watched as the shy Avox kept his eyes on the ground and obeyed. A morbid thought crossed her mind. She wondered what it felt like to have your tongue cut out. Rain started to fall onto the glass roof. The pattering resonated like a song.

After several quiet moments a young soldier was escorted into the room and told what to do. He glanced to Pandora and started laughing under his breath before shedding a few nonessentials.

Mironov placed his hand on Pandora's shoulder and leaned close, "You don't have to do this, if you're uncomfortable—"

"It's alright, Viktor," she placed her hand on his and tapped a few times, "Don't worry. I can handle this."

"You don't know you're strength, be careful."

Pandora stared at the young soldier and began unzipping her jacket. She pulled it off and hand it to Viktor. The branded scar she received long ago from the rebels was still visible—it had turned white over time. The sureness she felt was like nothing she felt before. It was as if it had always been there and only now did she realize it. Her feet planted on the floor a shoulder length's width apart and her eyes stayed on the soldier. He was smiling at her doubtfully. It must have been a funny sight for him—this tiny young woman with a confident stance.

Pandora didn't start moving until he was close, even then the movements were small and careful. She didn't put her fists up because she felt it unnecessary. Instead she simply watched the way he moved. Her eyes twitched to his feet, noticing immediately that he kept his weight on his left side. The soldier was the first one to swing, a swing she easily dodged. Quickly he threw another punch. This time when she dodged it she grabbed his wrist and shoved him away, sending him staggering a couple pace backward. Without waiting for him to regain his composure she ran at him and left-hooked him in the jaw and then right-hooked him in the side. He winced through clenched teeth and grabbed her arm, quickly twisting.

All of sudden the soldier was burning with rage.

Pandora felt the pain of his grip but ignored it. Strange instincts were coursing through her body. Somehow she knew how to react to the attacks. Her eyes focused on his face for a split second before she turned the tables and kneed him in the groin.

Immediately the soldier dropped to the floor. All enjoyment left his eyes. He angrily growled and started to swing. The first few punches she was able to block or dodge but the last one hit her square in the jaw. The air knocked out of her lungs as she fell to the ground.

The officials watching shifted in their seats.

Pandora tasted blood, but she quickly lifted her eyes and rolled away before he could kick her. She smiled broadly and swung her leg around, tripping him sooner than he could blink. Adrenaline rushed through her brain and veins. Suddenly she felt an instinct to kill the man. She scrambled to get up and pin him down.

Her knee pressed against his chest. With one hand she grabbed him around the neck and stared into his eyes. She started to squeeze.

His fingers clawed at her hands. He wheezed and gasped for air.

Pandora could feel tendons bruising underneath her grasp.

"Alright. That's enough," Snow said.

But Pandora didn't stop. She grinded her teeth as she squeezed harder.

"I said that's enough!"

Mironov urgently glanced to Snow then to Pandora. She was ignoring Snow's orders.

"Pandora?" the doctor's voice shook.

The soldier was clawing at her hands and the ground. He couldn't breath.

Mironov suddenly started running towards her. He grabbed her shoulder, "Pandora, stop!"

Instantly she let go of the soldier and whirled around with a fist. It was in midair when she froze. A memory immobilized her so suddenly that she gasped. All she saw was a man swinging from a noose. Her breathing was deep and quick. Her eyes widely blinked for a few seconds. It took a moment for her to realize that it was just a memory and not reality. When she snapped out of it she furrowed her brow. Mironov was standing in front of her. He looked terrified.

"Pandora?"

She lowered her eyes and her fist. The soldier was still recovering. Bruises had already started to form around his neck.

Mironov hesitated to touch her, but when he finally did she looked at him and blinked.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just—" her hand moved to her head, "I'm fine."

"You're bleeding—here," he pulled a kerchief out of his pocket and pressed it to her lip.

Her eyes widened as she felt him push it against her skin. It felt strange to be touched by someone else. She didn't like the feeling. Immediately she pushed him away and stepped back.

"I said I'm fine. Don't touch me."

Mironov's brow creased, a bit of blood stained the kerchief, "Alright."

"Can you help that young soldier, Avox?" Snow quickly asked, "He looks blue."

The Avox scrambled to follow the President orders but when he tried to help the soldier he was violently shoved. The soldier climbed to his feet by himself and glared at Pandora. She twitched her eyes to him and watched as he huffed and rubbed his throat.

"Well—that was interesting," Snow announced.

"Very." Trajan whispered.

"I think that will be enough for today, Miss Sullivan. You can leave."

A strand of hair fell in front of her eyes as she bowed and peered to Mironov. They had just started walking towards the door when Snow called out to them.

"Not you, Viktor! I'd like to talk to you privately."

Mironov stopped and closed his eyes, "Yes, sir—You can wait outside. I'll only be a minute."

She peered to him, "I think I'll find my own way back."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Viktor."

She grabbed her jacket from him and pulled it on before continuing her walk. The small cut on the inside of her mouth was still bleeding as she stepped out of the building and into the rain. A few knuckles were bruised. There was no way that Pandora could explain what had just happened, besides instincts. It occurred to her then that she should be worried, but then the breeze picked up and her eyes shifted to the fattening raindrops, and suddenly the thought disappeared.

Two soldiers flanked Mironov and Snow until they reached the President's office. It wasn't until they were inside and sitting that Mironov nervously spoke. It was always hard for the doctor to be in the presence of Snow, but now more than ever it was unbearable. Ever since the night of the procedure he had felt sick each time he had been forced to meet with the President, this time was no different.

"I told you she's still acclimating to being awake…and the changes. I think she needs more time."

Snow motioned for Mironov to hand him the file of reports he had been carrying, "You baby her. She won't acclimate unless you make her."

"She almost killed that man."

"Yes. I was impressed."

Mironov grimaced.

"Imagine what she'll be like after she's been tamed."

"Sir—the results brought up a few concerns."

Snow studied the reports and sighed, "Yes I see that from your scribbles. Would you like to clarify?"

"Pandora is showing symptoms of emotional disconnect, not only with her verbal responses to stimulus questions but with brain activity."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm trying to say that she's showing symptoms of severe dissociative disorder. Slight amnesia, relapses of time and perception, and problems with emotional recall."

"Just words, Viktor."

"The reports indicate the threat of it."

"Yes, but how determinable are you're little tests?"

"I'm telling you in my professional opinion what is going on. I believe that while the serum enhanced cerebral activity for reasoning and logic it depressed emotional centers."

"And I'm telling you to drop it. I don't see the importance of that, the procedure worked. You should be happy."

"Without proper empathy it would be dangerous to use Pandora. You saw it just out there. She nearly killed the man for no reason."

"A smart scientist like you, Viktor, always has loopholes."

Mironov gathered his thoughts. It was true. He was in the habit of creating safety nets, he did it with all his experiments—Pandora was no different.

"I created tethers."

"Tethers?"

"Anchors in the emotional centers of her brain. However, it would seem that they aren't fully functional. She didn't even respond to one of them when I questioned her."

"What does that mean? If you are so worried then activate the tethers."

"Pandora is the only one who can do that now. I'm telling you this because one of the tethers is Adric Pedersen. When she interacted with him she showed glimpses of emotions, it wasn't as unearthed as I thought it would be, but it was still there."

"Where is this pointless story going, Viktor?"

"Pandora must be around Adric if you allow her out in the field, in combat. It will keep her grounded, at least more than if he was absent. You say you want her tamed, I believe that Adric Pedersen is the only one who can hope to do that. She'll follow orders I'm sure, but instincts might override orders. The only hope is the working tether."

"It's good for a lion to be a little wild."

"Yes, but a wild lion doesn't have prejudices with their massacres. They simply kill. The barriers in her brain are too thick right now. Precautions must be taken."

Snow mulled over Mironov's words and pressed his fingers to his swollen lips, "I'll consider it."

The doctor sat back and let himself breath for a few seconds.

"Don't think I've forgotten about that night, Viktor."

He looked up.

"I remember how you refused to follow orders. You almost lost me a valuable person. Pandora was a candidate and you tried to undermine me."

"She was dying."

"If I hadn't pushed that lever she would have been nothing."

"And if I hadn't put her into a coma you would have no pawn to play with, sir," he tried to cloak the animosity in his words but it was too hard and he was too old for games.

"I don't trust you, Viktor, however…as it is I have no choice but to listen."

Mironov stared.

"But if you try to be a savior again, well—perhaps you'd like to join your wife and daughter. Pandora Sullivan is mine. Now that she is awake things will go back to how they were, but better because she is compliant. If you meddle, Viktor, as I know you love to do, I will hurt you…now say you understand me."

Mironov swallowed his pride and blinked his eyes, "I understand."

"You want to bring back the old Pandora. I don't want that one. I want this one. Her emotions are not important to me. And if you think you are valiant for so much as trying to bring back those deep buried emotions and memories, let me remind you that you were the one that strip them away with the procedure. The old Pandora won't forgive you for that, not even if you brought her back."

"I understand," he hated Snow more than anything.

"Yes, Viktor, I know you do."

Pandora was trying to remember the smell of pine just before she entered her apartment. The only trouble was she couldn't recall the scent. She dropped her eyes. _Strange_, she thought. It felt like an important thing to remember.

A few footsteps into the entry hall she stopped. Adric was sitting in a chair. At his feet was Seven.

She twitched her eyes between the wolf and Adric before tilting her head and continuing her walk.

"You overrode my security."

Seven howled at the sound of her voice. Wolves were one of those odd animals that never forget the sound of their master's voice. Seven was no different from any other wolf in that respect.

"I was given access after you slipped into a coma," He studied her, "Your lip is bleeding."

Pandora lifted her hand to her mouth without a change of expression and nodded, "Yes."

"Would you like to say why?"

"A soldier hit me, I hit harder."

Adric adjusted himself in the chair and arched his eyebrows. He found the reply very barren and strange.

"Pardon me?"

She ignored him and dropped to her knees, her eyes shifted to Seven as a low whistle passed her lips. Immediately the wolf got up. He was fully-grown now and very large. He sniffed Pandora's hair before whining and nuzzling her face. She quietly stroked his fur.

"You worry too much. You always did."

He leaned onto his knees with his elbows. After a heartbeat she looked up at him.

"Sorry for leaving so urgently last night. I was…surprised."

Pandora continued to comb her fingers through Seven's fur. Her eyes softened.

"You missed me," she observed.

Adric looked away uneasily.

"I'm making you uncomfortable," she added with a smile.

"No."

A feeling overcame her. The same feeling she felt on the roof. It felt like the old her, but only slight and distorted. The shadow of an emotion.

"We were friends."

Adric briefly looked her way, "Yes."

Her eyes narrowed. "You don't like looking at me. It bothers you."

"I don't know what you mean," but Adric knew exactly what she meant.

"The strangest part about waking up after three years is that time never stopped for anyone else."

"It didn't for you either."

"No, I guess it didn't. At least in the literal sense."

Adric felt his hands shaking. He had conversations with Pandora in his sleep, dreams of them talking, but they had only been dreams. Now that the real Pandora was awake and consciously sitting in front of him he was at a loss for words. She was different and he didn't like it.

"Viktor said you can't remember some things."

"I remember a lot."

"Just not how you fell into a coma?"

Pandora kept her eyes on Adric. For an instant she grasped a memory of him banging on a wall of glass, his face was riddled with panic—he was screaming something to her. He looked younger then. She must have too. Long ago.

"Did you grieve for me, Adric?"

His eyes dropped to his hands and his jaw clenched. The question hollowed out his insides.

"What do you think?"

"It must have been hard for you."

He laughed and shook his head, "Yea. It must have."

Pandora twitched her eyes to Seven and then back to Adric, "You don't have to pretend anymore. I know you loved me, Adric."

His body went rigid. He tried to look at her but found himself frozen completely.

"What?" He whispered in shock.

Pandora stroked Seven, "I always knew you loved me, Adric. It wasn't hard to figure out, though truthfully I didn't figure it out until I saw you pounding on that glass just before I fell asleep. Funny how that's my only memory from that night. I used to be much slower than I am now, I think. Somehow I've evolved. "

His hazel eyes slowly lifted. She was looking down.

"That was a long time ago," he sadly replied after a measured and heavy pause.

"Yes," she whispered back, "It was."

"Only a few people know you were in a coma, the rest of the world doesn't. Every month they release old ads and film clips of you, but they're all manipulated to look like new ones. I guess the Capitol couldn't spare the wonderful Pandora Sullivan, not even for three years."

"Life still goes on, I guess. Even when you aren't living it."

"They were horrible to look at the first year…but it got easier," he caught his breath and closed his eyes, "I did miss you."

"I know, Adric."

He sniffed away the rush of emotions he was feeling and shook his head. Of course she knew that.

"I'm back though."

Her words made his breath catch in his throat. It was unexpected. He didn't realize how much he needed to hear those words until she said them. But Pandora had changed—that fact was obvious. He thought of the repercussions that Mironov had listed to him and felt a great sadness sweep over his whole being.

"You're different."

"I am?" She asked, though she knew it was the truth. She knew it the moment she opened her eyes and felt a numbed peace.

"You're not angry anymore," Adric realized that wasn't the only thing that was different, but it was the only thing he felt like mentioning.

"I don't feel angry. So I guess I'm not."

"What do you feel then?"

Pandora rubbed her lips together and thought long and hard. She searched her heart and mind.

"I feel like silence. Like I never woke up."

Adric nodded, "And that doesn't scare you?"

"Nothing scares me anymore."

"Well I'm scared for you."

She calmly looked to the windows, "When I was asleep I had this dream over and over again. I dreamed of pine trees. The way they swayed in the wind, the way they creaked, and most importantly I could smell them—it was very real, almost soothing. But now…now I can't even remember that smell. It's gone. I should care, shouldn't I? That it's all gone—" she waited for Adric to look at her, "—but I don't. I don't care at all."


	4. The Unavoidable Sun

_Here it comes, the unavoidable sun of what's just happened and what's been done, and you know I don't remember a thing, I don't remember a thing. _

It seemed as if she had been underwater forever.

_Swim_, a voice whispered through the cool currents.

The depths wrapped around her porcelain skin. Waves of screams trembled through the darkness. Chaotic and muffled they roared and yet she felt still.

Pearls of air escaped her heart shaped lips. A scorned looked creased her brow. Strands of her chestnut hair floated around in graceful wisps. It was short now. Someone had cut it. It used to be long. She used to be younger. 3 years.

Her brown eyes lifted out of the depths toward the surface. It seemed a sheet of glass cracking, but then something began to burn. Fire.

_Swim._

Her legs began to move, her arms reaching through the water. Slowly her body started to glide upward.

The closer she got, the louder the screams became. The brighter the fire became.

With one final pulse she reached the surface. The air was cold as she splashed. A breeze filled her lungs. Water trickled down. Gravity. She could feel the weight of the water in her hair, the effort of her legs moving.

A gust of screams billowed in from a burning shoreline and swirled around her until finally it ripped away like a torn curtain.

Quickly the fire became a rising sun and the water her bed sheets.

All a dream.

She was back in her room, but the dream lingered in her toes. They wiggled for a few seconds, remembering the frigid water between them.

No more screams, only the sound of the Capitol buzzing and grunting.

_Swim_, the voice had said, _swim_. She remembered that much but she couldn't feel the gravity anymore. The struggle of the current against her body disappeared, reality suddenly encompassed her.

The car was waiting for Pandora. She held Seven's leash taut in her hands as she confidently walked down the steps towards the black car.

"Miss Sullivan, we've discussed this."

Her smoky eyes shifted to the driver before she wrapped the leash around her gloved hands a few times.

"We have," she agreed shortly.

Pandora wore a form fitting black dress that fell just below her knees. Her short waves were pinned up neatly.

"That animal is not coming in here."

Pandora took a step forward her heels scratched against the pavement.

"You work for me, don't you?"

The driver's eyes widened, "Of course."

"So work."

Without another word she looked away and walked by him letting the wolf climb into the car before she managed her way in. Seven took up most of the seat but she didn't mind. He rested his snout on her lap just as the driver rushed to his seat and slammed the door.

He let out a nervous sigh, "You'll give me a heart attack one day, Miss Sullivan."

She lifted her eyes coyly and smiled, petting Seven, "If you have any trouble you just let me know."

"They wouldn't say anything to you—but I'm only a driver. I've already had warnings. General Pederse—"

"I didn't know Trajan Pedersen had a vendetta against wolves."

"He doesn't like them."

"Wolves?"

"Wovles, dogs—none of them."

Her eyes shifted to the windows, "How does a driver know so much?"

"You hear things being a driver."

"And what have you heard about me?"

"Only the best, Miss Sullivan."

Her smile grew, "You're too kind, Demetri."

"The Capitol grows restless without you. A beloved Victor, that's what you are."

"The Capitol will exist long after I am gone."

She couldn't explain why but saying that made a terrible feeling rush into her gut. Her jaw clenched as she allowed the feeling to vanish.

Soon the car stopped. A crystal clear whistle escaped her lips as she tugged on the leash and allowed Seven to pounce out of the car. A few pedestrians jumped in surprise until they saw that Pandora Sullivan was holding the leash.

A single hand stayed on the car door as she glanced to the driver.

"Do you want me to wait? It might rain, almost winter now."

She looked to the skies for a heartbeat. The clouds were bruises on bruises. It was certainly going to rain.

"Don't bother. I know you have children. Run along to them. It's only water."

"You be careful now, Miss Sullivan."

"And you, Demetri."

She slammed the door shut and started up the marble steps. The fabric of her dress hugged her hips and legs. It wasn't long before she was standing in the elevator waiting for the doors to open. Once they did, Seven waited for Pandora to move before he did. Elia still had gold tattoos. Strange, Pandora thought, since the Capitol citizens were always eager for the latest changing trends.

"Miss Sullivan!" She shouted staggering back as soon she caught wind of Seven. Papers in her hands fell to the ground.

"I had an appointment."

"Did that mutt have one too?"

Pandora stared at Elia. The stare frightened her.

"I just mean—this is the third time I've had to remind you that we don't cater to wolves, or dogs of any kind for that matter."

"I had an appointment."

A wave of nervousness swept over Elia. She shook her head and had to look down before she finally spoke, "Of course, just go right in."

"Thank you."

Seven crooned as soon as the doors swished open. Pandora noticed his hesitation. He didn't like the sickly sweet smell, but she forced him to follow her. The sound of paws and heels pattering resounded in the long hall to the office.

Pandora noted the raindrops that were hitting the windows. It had just started to rain.

"A vision in black."

Her brown eyes adjusted to the gloominess of the room quickly. Her gaze moved near the blazing fire. President Snow stood to his feet. He eyed the wolf for a moment. She saw the lines of disdain on his face, noted the unease in his posture, before he extended his hand.

"A pleasure, Mr. President."

"This pup goes everywhere you do."

"A wolf can't be caged for long."

"I see, although I do fear what could happen when the wolf is out of its cage."

"Rest assured, President. Seven only eats humans when I tell him to."

Snow dropped his eyes to the wolf once more and grimaced.

"I have total confidence in you, my dear."

She felt the warmth of his hand as he shook hers, but the warmth didn't reach his eyes.

"Please take a seat, would you like some tea?"

She studied his expression before moving to a chair near the fire and crossing her legs, "Yes."

"Two sugars."

"Yes."

He laughed to himself as he plopped the cubes into her delicate cup and handed it over. Seven nuzzled close to her legs. The wolf's eyes didn't leave Snow.

"You always have impressed me, Miss Sullivan, but it wasn't until you awoke from that coma of yours that you truly impressed me. Look at you, such a confident woman. So strong. So gripping. You had been asleep for so long no one thought you'd ever wake up, now it's been several months and it's as if you've matured in your sleep."

Her smile was well-trained, "Kind as always."

"I suppose you're wondering why I've asked you here."

"For my company?"

He chuckled, "You're funnier than you used to be."

Her smiled widened as she lifted the teacup to her lips.

"No," she whispered, "You asked me here because you want to tell me what's going to happen next."

Snow leaned back in his seat and adjusted his white rose. Such a pretty little rose it was, she thought to herself. She narrowed her eyes at the flower for a brief second. A recollection of a sea of white roses splattered in blood came to her. It was from one of her dreams.

"Clever. Yes. I thought by giving you a few months—"

"You thought by letting me relax for the past few months it would allow me to acclimate back to living life?"

"Yes."

She cradled her tea and straightened her back, "Dr. Mironov has always been a very careful man, hasn't he?"

There was no use pretending that it had been Snow's idea.

"He has indeed."

"I believe I owe my life to that carefulness, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh, Miss Sullivan, you don't give yourself enough credit. I'm sure that somehow you would have managed to survive."

Silence fell.

"Tonight I have a meeting with General Trajan Pedersen. I will tell him to begin military training with you. Of course you already knew that?"

"I had a feeling."

Pandora wasn't able to understand the irony of that statement but Snow couldn't hold back a cruel smile.

"Of course you did, clever girl. I've arranged Adric Pedersen to help you. You will be under his command. Training will start tomorrow. However you will continue you make you're public appearances. The Capitol feeds off of you."

"A frightening compliment."

Again Snow laughed. Pandora watched him with a smile.

"But you're not frightened are you?"

"No. I'm not."

He slurped his tea and enjoyed a moment of unkind ease. Her brain had been successfully engineered for all this now. There were ticks and traits that always bled through, signs that the old Pandora was still there, but the newer ones were far more apparent. It was perfection.

"Tell me something, Pandora…"

She rose in eyebrow and nodded.

"You remember me, everything that I've done to you, and yet you are respectful. There is no animosity or bitterness where there was before. You remember everything don't you?"

Pandora flicked her eyes to the fire in thought. She could recall the memories like someone watching a film—his hateful words, his slap and the taste of blood, and over all of that his mercilessness. When she looked back to him though none of that echoed in her heart as it should have or as it had before. She couldn't feel hate for him anymore because she didn't care anymore.

"I remember."

"You must know how strong you are now. You could break my neck if you wanted to right here and now."

"I could."

"And you don't?"

"There was a time that I hated you, but all turns to ash I'm afraid. It doesn't seem necessary to hate you anymore. If it's any consolation I can't find any part of me that respects you. My respectfulness is out of universal protocols, not warm sincerities. Does that give you comfort, President?"

"As a matter of fact it does."

"I'm so very happy."

Her face and tone did not match her words. It wasn't that she was completely devoid of emotions, it was only that her emotions were muted. Sad shadows of how they used to be. Her memories were scattered and at times indiscernible. Perhaps that was the real reason she couldn't clearly remember the prickling hate and boiling resentment that had been there before.

"Why aren't you afraid, Pandora?"

She blinked her eyes, "Fear is seared into my bones. It's a part of me now, and I'm a part of it. I'd tremble at fear no sooner then I'd tremble at my own skin."

"I've found fear is what makes people tick."

"And what are you afraid of, Mr. President?" Her fingers glided over the stem of the teacup. "What monsters lurk under your bed?"

"That is between me and my shadows."

"So many shadows, it must be hard for a man like you to discern between your shadows and others. You seem to collect shadows."

Snow narrowed his eyes, "Are you talking back to me?"

"I am talking to you. Whether it is back or forth, who's to know?"

His eyes burned like coals, "You better keep a civil tongue in that clever head of yours, Miss Sullivan. I am in no mood for riddles and sly remarks. You've seen what I can do."

"I've seen many things in my life, but if there is one thing I fear it's that I can't pretend to be shocked by your threats."

"Perhaps your wolf would."

Pandora lowered her eyes to Seven and smiled, "I'm making you uncomfortable now. My apologies. These conversations do get away from me from time to time, you see."

She wasn't lying. It wasn't her intention to talk back. It was instinct to stake out her territory, to stay calm and blunt. It was an instinct that had never been part of her until after the procedure. She felt superior as a result of the changings and it was hard to remain grounded because of it. Her brain was wired for quips, for swift movements, death and small details. It was hard to be emotional when so much of her thoughts were dedicated to the analytical.

Snow rubbed his lips together nervously and forced a dark laugh, "Of course. I accept your apology."

"Of course," a whisper of a smile appeared on her lips, "No matter though, you don't need to answer my question."

"Oh? And why is that? What monsters do I tremble at? Pray, do tell."

"You fear what every great leader fears. A revolution."

Snow studied her posture and steady gaze. Truthfully he wanted to slap her as he had done so long ago, but he restrained the urge. Instead his head lifted proudly.

"And whose side are you on?"

"A day will come where I'll find out, I'm sure a day will come."

"Miss Sullivan, I'm afraid you picked your side the moment you put a bullet in that rebels head. The day you decided to come to the Capitol."

"I'm afraid you are right." Though that was the complete truth, something deep inside Pandora's heart told her that.

"It must be a terrible thing to overcome. Being beaten and tortured. That branding you have, you don't seem ashamed of it."

Her eyes shifted to scar near her wrist. She stared at it for a time before looking back to Snow.

"I am proud of it."

"A strange thing to be proud of. Killing rebels, wouldn't your father be disappointed?"

Pandora could see from Snow's expression that he was attempting to offend her, maybe illicit a response, but she felt nothing.

"My father is dead and I am not."

"Indeed. Do you ever see him swinging from a noose in your dreams?"

She vacantly gazed at him, her eyes unblinking, "Not anymore."

"Anymore?"

"The unavoidable sun."

"What's that?"

"Time keeps coming, even now it's moving forward. Moving towards something. On and on," she stared into the fire like a child in a trance, Snow couldn't tell if she was talking to herself or to him anymore. And just as quickly as she had faded out, she pulled herself back into reality, back into the conversation. Her gaze landed on him with awareness suddenly, "I'm afraid my dreams of late would bore you to tears, President. Time has worn out all nightmares for me. I'm left with dim dreams and memories."

Even as she said it Pandora Sullivan knew it was a lie. It had to be. A far off terror was crying for her, screaming for her, and all she could do was take another sip of tea, completely unaware.


	5. Affliction

**Special Note: I have just posted a new Hunger Games fic, but don't worry I'm still working hard on this one...I just missed the actual Games so if you want feel free to check out "The Glass Sun Shatters". As always, enjoy! **

* * *

_Affliction _

Snow danced through the night sky. Ice covered the pristine streets of the Capitol. Winter clung to every building and gust of wind. A puff of breath rose through the air as the car door opened. Cameras quickly flashed. Pandora's deep brown eyes lifted slyly as she stepped onto the carpet and adjusted the fur around her neck. In front of her was a parted crowd armed with excitable cameras and gleeful cheers and further on was the President's Mansion.

She allowed the fur shawl to slip down one of her arms as she started walking forward. Her slinky black dress had a plunging neckline and small train, which slithered behind her footsteps as she smiled to photographers and waved to the squirming crowd.

The glass doors opened with a song as she made the final marble step up and pursed her lips. Already the receiving hall was buzzing, filled to the brim with the Capitol Elite and screened photographers. Garlands of evergreen decorated the hall, stretching far into the main area. Each garland dazzled with warm lights.

At the doorway she stopped. No one looked at her. No one saw her enter. At first it delighted her, but it was a delight that was short lived.

"Merry Christmas."

A strand of hair fell over her face as she peered to the side.

"Kol Flemming."

His blue eyes sparkled as he adjusted his tie and nodded to a passing person.

"Pandora Sullivan."

She studied his face and black hair. Just like Adric Kol had grown in the years she had been asleep, but for some reason the changes weren't shocking, perhaps because she was never truly close with Kol Flemming.

"I was wondering when we'd finally cross paths again. I've been counting the days."

"I hear you've been busy, working hard in District 1 for our beloved Capitol." It wasn't a lie. After awaking from her coma she made it her job to learn everything that had happened while she was asleep, it wasn't a task that she wanted to do but that she needed to, only a few people knew that she was ever in a coma the rest thought she was still awake performing her tasks in the Capitol. Kol was one of these people left to ignorance. In her small discussions with Artorius Flemming she quickly learned that he had sent his son off to District 1 in the hopes that it would crack some sense into him, but everyone in the Capitol knew that it only broadened the scope of Kol's flippant romances and careless trysts.

"Work," he let out a laugh and took a sip of his champagne, "My father loves to work me to the bone."

"I'm sure."

Although Pandora was looking towards the orchestra she easily noticed that Kol was eyeing her. From her peripherals she could see his blue eyes moving up and down.

"Mr. Flemming you're making me blush."

He let out a laugh and glanced away with a smile, "I don't think you ever blush, Miss Sullivan."

She smirked, "Maybe once."

"You cut your hair."

The suddenness of the statement should have shocked her but she couldn't remember how to be shocked. Instead she looked to him and slipped her hand through her silky short waves.

"Yes."

He leaned forward and purposefully brushed against her neck as he took a strand of her hair in his fingers, "I like it. You never needed all that hair anyways."

"I'm so glad you like it, I live for such approval you know."

His hand dropped as a boyish grin stretched his lips. His grin was still the same. "Always the sharp one. Is your bite as bad as your bark?"

Without thinking she grabbed his glass of champagne from his hands and tilted it to her lips. She felt the bubbles tickle her throat and tongue. Her eyes stayed on his for a moment before she handed it back.

"Some say worse."

She noted the signs of surprise on his face before he drank the rest of the drink and looked away with a laugh, "Are you flirting with me?"

Pandora crossed her arms and tilted her head, "No. Are you?"

"Oh Pandora, you know I'm saving myself for you."

"Of course, but I'm afraid it will be a long time before hell freeze over."

"They say this winter's one of the coldest. Maybe I'll get lucky tonight."

"Perhaps, but not with me."

Kol grinned, "I do love a cold woman."

Pandora smirked holding back a laugh, which he didn't miss.

"I've seen the advertisement they released while I was away. It's a strange thing…"

Her lips parted.

"…they looked very similar to old ones. I hear that up until 6 months ago no one had seen the lovely Pandora Sullivan out of her home."

She cleared her throat and grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing tray, "Oh?"

"Yes. Even stranger is this," she dropped her eyes as she felt his hand around her arm. His thumb brushed over the scar from being branded, "Did you burn yourself on something?"

Pandora's eyes lifted steadily, "Are you implying something?"

"I believe I'm inferring, but then again what do I know?"

"Sometimes we let our imaginations get away from us, don't we?"

Kol smiled, "You're not the only one who has kept tabs on people. I always notice a pretty face like yours."

Her eyes shifted from his hand around her wrist to his face for several seconds. There were no clear signs of surprise or anger, only a calm façade, "You flatter me too much, Kol. One of these days it'll get to my head."

"Adric visited me a few times while I was away. He looked like hell."

"Adric is a very emotional person."

"Aren't we all…He barely said a word to me. We just sat there. I asked after you and you should have seen the expression on his face, like I had wounded him. Isn't that odd?"

Pandora rubbed her lips together, she felt the old her rumbling deep inside her bones, but a stoic glaze disguised all of that from Kol.

"Very."

He narrowed his eyes. Pandora knew what he was trying to do. He was sizing her up, trying to get a reaction, a reaction that she refused to give. She replied to his narrowed eyes with a warm smile and laugh. The laugh made him grin, but it was a doubtful grin. Slowly he let go of her arm and looked away.

"Well in any case I'm glad to see you're all in one piece."

"You are?"

He side-glanced her and sipped his drink. "_Very_." He mocked.

It wasn't until that moment that Pandora realized just how smart Kol Flemming was. She made a note to never underestimate him. A secondary thought overwhelmed her in that brief pause. The spark of guilt at the mentioning of Adric's expression. Guilt. She knew it was there and yet she felt frozen to it. So much had changed while she had been asleep, then again so much had not.

Violins swelled from somewhere near the dance floor. The strings hummed her thoughts away, drawing her attention away from those dark holes in her brains—the mysteries Pandora couldn't get a grip on, she was sure that at some point in the past these dark mysteries were clear, but not now.

Suddenly the music stopped. All voice fell to low murmurs. Near a set of stairs a figure emerged. President Snow nodded to the orchestra before raising his glass to silence the party further.

"A beautiful song!" he proclaimed, "Thank you for your attendance, and welcome. Tonight I hope you drink your fill of wine and enjoy the dancing. Merry Christmas friends and colleagues."

He lifted his glass further and scanned the room. Pandora noticed his eyes linger on her face for moment before the room broke out into applause and laughter.

"Why are you back in the Capitol, Kol?" She whispered.

"Everyone misses their home at some point. Besides my duties in District 1 were done."

Her face screwed up for a heartbeat.

"Home…" she repeated.

"Yes. I assume you miss District 7 at times."

Saturated memories flickered in her brain. Swaying branches. The sound of lumber mills early in the morning, and the taste of sweet forest berries and sap on your fingertips. The remembrances burned bright for an instant before muddling once more. Interruptions suddenly flashed. The swaying branches became a burning city, the peaceful buzz of the mills turned into the sound of screams. A gasp shuddered from her lungs as she felt her knees buckle. Her hand reached for the wall, she nearly fell.

"Pandora?"

Her eyes blinked, "What did you say?"

"I asked if you ever miss District 7. Don't you?"

Her gaze shifted from his face to the rest of the party. Slowly the panic faded. "I do not."

Kol lowered his glass and tilted his head, "You seem different."

"What?"

He turned to face her. She could tell from his expression that he was inspecting. Pandora let go of the wall and sucked in a breath before straightening her back and challenging his gaze.

"Pandora you're voice is different, as if…"

Her eyebrow arched, "As if what?"

"…it's nothing. I'm sure it's nothing."

"You ask a lot of questions."

He stepped forward, his eyes were narrowed into slits of ice blue. Pandora had to lift her eyes as he moved towards her.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Miss Sullivan. It's always hard to remember how to act around you."

"I'm sure."

"After all you are one of Panem's most honored Victors."

Kol was playing with words.

"You're concern with me is touching."

He noted the lack of emotion in her voice and narrowed his eyes further. She was colder, perhaps even icy. There was a glaze of intensity in her eyes that hadn't been there before. Something was very different about her, she looked the same and yet…

"Hello, Kol."

Both Pandora and he turned to the side.

Pandora's lips parted in surprise. It was a young woman with red hair and light eyes. She was much taller than Pandora. A crimson smile was on her lips. Jewels covered her neck and wrists, along with a stark white dress that was less than modest.

"Lilas, how are you?"

Kol and the young woman hugged each other. Pandora furrowed her brow.

"I'm good. I hear you're back for good this time. Thank god, right? District 1 is nice but nothing beats the Capitol."

"Of course."

The cat-like eyes shifted to Pandora. "Pandora Sullivan isn't it?"

"Yes."

"A pleasure. I've heard so much about you."

The young woman offered her hand but Pandora didn't take it, she only stared. "It seems wherever I go people hear about me."

"Well of course it's like that. You're famous."

Her voice had a tinge of pomposity to it cloaked in kind regards. Pandora clenched her jaw.

"My name is Lilas Ardwell."

Kol cleared his throat, his whisper was forced through his teeth like a hiss, "For god sakes, Pandora, shake her hand."

She corner-eyed him. Since she had woken she found it difficult to remember common courtesies. Her hand delicately stretch out before she shook Lilas's and stepped back.

The young woman laughed, "I hadn't expected the famous Pandora Sullivan to be so shy."

She only stared.

"And so beautiful. I love your dress."

"Thank you."

Lilas let out another nervous laugh, "Kol I heard from Adric that your father will be consulting with Seneca Crane for this upcoming Hunger Game. Even after retirement he can't seem to keep away."

"Yes," he shot Pandora a cautious look, "You know how my father is."

"You know Adric?" Pandora asked the question before she could stop herself. Her eyes had stayed on Lilas the entire time.

Her crimson lips stretched into a wider smile. "Of course."

"Pandora, you've never heard Adric speak of Lilas?"

She looked to Kol, "Why would I?"

A pointed glare told Pandora that she had insulted the young woman but she didn't care. Kol looked shocked.

"Well, because—Lilas is Adric's fiancé. They're engaged."

Pandora's eyes widened. That was something she hadn't known. Apparently a lot had changed since she had been asleep, more than she thought. Why hadn't Adric told her that? This time when she looked back to Lilas her lips parted in surprise.

"He hadn't mentioned—" she dropped her eyes, "I'm sorry, how rude of me. Yes, I remember now. You have to understand, I'm so busy sometimes I forget. Adric and I haven't spoken in sometime, you know?"

"Yes, it's quite alright."

Suddenly the music seemed louder. Pandora rubbed her lips together and brushed a strand of hair behind on ear. Coldness grew in her chest.

"Speak of the devil…" Kol mumbled.

"There he is!" Lilas cooed.

"I have to go," Pandora whispered but no one heard. She was just about to depart when Adric stepped into view. His face tensed as he looked at her. She wanted to move but suddenly the urge to stay grew. He hadn't told her he was engaged. It seemed an important fact to share and he had kept it from her.

Pandora watched as Lilas looped her arm around his and leaned close to Adric. He looked uncomfortable, barely returning the affection.

"I was just having a wonderful discussion with Pandora Sullivan, Adric."

"Yes, I see that. Hello." He nodded formally to her, but she didn't return the courtesy.

"Adric is one of the best fighters in Panem, I barely have enough time with him as it is."

Numbness was filling her. Slowly she remembered herself and smirked with false kindess, "Yes. I've had the honor of watching Officer Pedersen in action," her fingers grazed over the scar on her arm as she spoke, "It was always very thrilling if I recall."

Adric stared at Pandora.

"Won't you dance with me?" Lilas begged.

"Not now."

Kol put his hands in his pocket and cleared his throat once more. His eyes were darting around the room. Pandora could only imagine how badly he wanted to leave the conversation.

"Please."

Adric stepped away from her and sighed, "I said not now."

"Please excuse me," Pandora slowly whispered, "I'm suddenly thirsty."

She didn't wait for a reply. Her dress moved around her feet as she glided along the marble, past a jovial crowd and near the banquet tables. She had just pinched the stem of the crystal glass in between her fingers when she felt a breeze blow around. Calmly she turned to see Adric. Apparently he had followed her.

"I should have told you. That must have been shocking."

"No," Pandora lied.

"I didn't want it, but I'm afraid my father has other plans."

She silently tilted the glass to her lips and felt the bubbles burn her tongue, "You don't need to explain anything to me, Adric. It's none of my business."

"I'm sorry I haven't been around to see you. Viktor's told me—"

"I'm glad that you and Viktor have something to talk about."

"He's worried."

Her smile was double-edged, "Are you?"

"I think you aren't yourself."

"I seem to hear a lot of that these days, the funny thing is I feel just fine."

Adric stepped closer but Pandora moved away and smiled.

"I was told you're to train as a soldier. They want me to help."

"I've been training."

"I know, you should be careful. Unless you enjoy being used now. You shouldn't trust people."

She let out a laugh, "Brave Officer, I don't need your protection."

"Last time you said that—"

"I remember what happened last time I said that."

"You should be scared."

"I don't feel anything."

Adric pursed his lips, "That's the problem, isn't it? That's why Viktor's worried. You can't—"

Pandora narrowed her eyes and stepped so close to him she was nearly on his toes. Her head craned up to look into his eyes. "You should watch how you speak to me. We wouldn't want your fiancé to know how well you know me. She might get jealous, though I'm sure the poor dear doesn't have enough sense to realize whether it's day or night."

Despite her numbed coldness Pandora felt betrayed somehow.

"I didn't see the point in telling you."

"And why is that?"

"Because you don't care about anything anymore. It didn't seem relevant."

Pandora ground her teeth. "Excuse me?"

"You're like a robot. Do you feel anything?"

"Right now I feel angry."

Around Adric she had heightened emotions. Even if he was in the same room as her she could feel her personality shifting back into something it used to be. There was no way she could make sense of it.

"At least it's something. Just between me and you—I miss the old Pandora. But you can't even remember what she was like can you?"

She stepped back, "I remember."

"But you don't understand."

"You must think highly of yourself to look me in the eye and tell me who I am and how I should act. I could snap your neck."

"And why is that? Do you recall? Because you're body was used as an experiment."

"It doesn't take away from the threat."

"Don't you even care? You're broken and you can't see it. I tried to save you—"

Pandora remembered the way Adric had pressed his hands against the glass. She remembered the pain that seared her organs. She remembered but she couldn't feel.

"But you didn't save me."

"I wanted to save you more than anything."

Suddenly she remembered the party around them and dropped her eyes.

"I've been given orders to help you train, but I don't want to be responsible for hurting you, I can't do that again."

Silence fell over them in purring waves. She was sure that someone was watching them and wondering what they were discussing. Her stomach was tightening. It was just like her dream. She was under the water filled with blind emotions. The surface was so close but she couldn't find the strength to swim.

"Adric," her eyes met his, "I still trust you. Is that enough emotion for you?"

"I don't know."

"It's all I can give you. I don't want anyone else to help me fight. I don't trust anyone else. That hasn't changed."

Adric adjusted his uniform and rubbed his neck. He felt so empty, but it was an emptiness that had been with him for a long time now. His hazel eyes finally moved to Pandora's face. His head nodded, framed by perfect posture.

"You think I'd actually let anyone else teach you?"

"No. I don't."

He attempted a smile, it looked sad, "Good. I once told you I'm not going to leave you. I meant it. I was there when you needed me, when you shot the rebel and when you fell into a coma. If you're determined to do this then I'm going to be right by your side. I'm a man of my word."

Pandora nodded too. "I know you are, Adric. That's why I trust you."

"I hope you find your way back some day, Pandora."

Her eyes softened despite the distance in her heart. For some reason she thought of her brothers. For some reason the urge to see them resurfaced, only to sink again. Her eyes closed. Her breathing evened.

Pandora's expression was changed when she finally opened her eyes once more, "I wouldn't hold your breath."


	6. Phantoms of Ourselves

_Phantoms of Ourselves_

"Left!"

The sword in her hand glided in defense as soon as he shouted the word. Steel clashed on steel. Adric gave her a shove and sent her stumbling back a few feet. Beads of effort were on his brow but Pandora hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Right!"

Again she shielded the attack.

"Right!"

"Left!"

"Ease into!"

He shouted the commands as they collided their swords together and sparred. They had been going at it for hours now but Pandora wasn't tired. Even with how tired Adric was he fought better than anyone she had ever seen, but this time she thought she had him. A smirk formed on her lips as she leaned in for a bluff attack to the left, dropping to the ground with a swoop of her leg under his feet. His body thumped to the mat below. Pandora panted as she climbed on top and held her sword to his throat.

"Checkmate," she whispered through heavy breaths.

His hazel eyes scanned her face, "Are you sure?"

"I have my sword to your throat."

A grin reached his eyes, "Look down."

It wasn't until she dropped her eyes that she saw the sliver of a blade pointed at her stomach. Adric was holding a small dagger. "You would have been dead before you slit my throat. The eye shouldn't go to the blade in my hand. Your eyes stay on me, you never know what tricks I could have up my sleeve."

Angrily she dropped her sword and climbed to her feet, "What's the point of fighting with swords, anyways? Our enemies won't have swords, they'll have guns."

_Our enemies_, Adric noticed her tone as she said it, a threatening tone. He flicked his eyes to her and wondered who _their_ enemies were.

"It takes finesse to work a blade, if you learn to master a blade you'll be a better fighter."

Pandora pushed her hair back, "You're babying me."

"I most certainly am not."

"We've been training for months now and you won't let me train with the others."

"You scare the others. And I don't trust anyone else with you."

Pandora coldly stared. "I can handle myself."

"I know you can. I heard how well you can. I'm not protecting you, you don't know your own strength, you'll hurt someone."

"I know how strong I am."

Adric sighed and dusted his trousers off. "You've been talking to the President again."

Pandora blinked her eyes, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"You should be careful. He's in your head."

It should have insulted her but she barely cared, "Sometimes I think you just talk to listen to your own words."

"Really? Our enemies?"

"What?"

"You said _our_ enemies just a moment ago. Or did you not realize?"

She rubbed her head in a rush of awareness, "I—I just meant. I didn't mean that."

He stared at her for a heartbeat before dropping his eyes. It was obvious how hard it was for Pandora. The serum had changed her brain. She had been conditioned to fight, her emotions had been manipulated in the rawest of way. It was easy to negate manipulation when it came down to simple words, but with Pandora it was biological chemistry now. Sometimes he would catch her saying things the old Pandora would be disgusted by. The fierceness that had always been inside had been warped into something Adric sometimes didn't recognize. He was scared, but more than that he was sad.

"I know," he finally whispered.

She self-consciously glanced to him. "He wants me by his side for the closing ceremonies of the 74th Hunger Game."

Adric froze, "Why?"

"He says he trusts me."

Bitter anger rose inside him. He hated President Snow. Since he was a small boy he had always been terrified of the man but it wasn't until he saw his cruelty first hand that the disgust flourished. He despised him for what he had done to Pandora, what he was still doing. Sometimes Adric wondered if there was a way he could save her, but there was nowhere to go…nowhere to hide. And the truth was that Pandora didn't want to leave anymore. She couldn't fully feel, and in that terrible loss of emotion she had also lost the fire of love she had for justice and honor. The older Adric got the more he realized one horrible truth: he may love his home, his Capitol, but it was built on tragedy and crimes.

"He's lying."

"I know he's lying," her words were monotone.

"If you stand up there beside him, he wins," Adric stepped closer, suddenly he was aware of the walls around them, anyone could be watching, "Your family will see you beside him, everyone you used to love. Pandora, you don't want that."

Her brow furrowed. Every time she was around Adric she felt stretched in two separate directions. Everything in her body was telling her to obey, but when Adric spoke it felt like the truth. She rubbed her lips together and shook her head, "He already won three years ago."

"No," he placed his hand on her shoulder, "He didn't. Deep down you know that."

It always confused Pandora when he performed those delicate gestures. Her eyes stared at his hands for a split second before they returned to his face.

"Who are you fighting for, Adric? For the Capitol?"

"What?"

A brief pause of silence blew between them.

"You're touching me like you love me."

Instantly he let go and stumbled back. For a heartbeat he couldn't even meet her stare, "Dammit, Pandora..."

"I'm making you uncomfortable."

"I don't—just—don't speak like that."

A strand of hair fell across her face, "It must have been hard for you to see me with Finnick."

"Well, Finnick's not here."

Pandora glanced to the windows distantly. She didn't feel a thing, "No."

"Do you even remember him anymore? Miss him?"

Her eyes returned to his face. She adjusted her posture and slowly blinked, "I remember things. Of course I remember things."

"You loved him."

"I—think I did."

"You did," Adric said.

"The worst thing to learn as you get older is that sometimes love isn't enough. He left. I remember crying. I remember feeling broken. Once we loved each other, and then we grew up. Now I'm here, and he is there. You can't go back in time."

Adric stared at his hands and turned away. He was struggling with a reply, when it finally came he lifted his eyes to the ceiling as if to sigh, "It was never hard for me to see you with him, Pandora. You lost so much, you deserved to feel love."

"Do you love Lilas?"

He looked at her in shock, parting his lips.

"Lilas," he whispered, "I—"

Pandora smiled. Without thinking she reached out her hand and placed it on his back. He turned away from her touch and tried to hide his face. After a few seconds she understood why he wouldn't look at her. Tears were falling from his eyes. They were tears Pandora didn't understand. She had never seen him cry.

"Please don't."

He knocked her hand away and walked to the window. She waited for a while before following. Standing by his side they peered down at the streets. The Capitol citizens were cheering for the games. The whole city was riled up this time around—this one was different.

"I hate her," Adric's whisper was raw and strained, "I hate her."

Pandora side-glanced him and sadly pursed her lips.

"But I have no choice."

That was one of the worst parts about being a Capitol elite. You didn't marry for love. You married to better your name.

Though her face showed no obvious emotions she wrapped a single arm around Adric and rested her head on his shoulder, "I'm sorry for asking."

"It doesn't matter. None of it does," his voice was far off, somewhere else.

They stayed that way for a while. Even when Pandora's arm got tired she kept it glued around him. But when the clamor of footsteps echoed into the training room she felt Adric pull away. He was almost on the other side of the room when the doors crashed opened.

"What are you two doing here? Haven't you heard?!"

It was one of Adric's friends. Another soldier. Pandora quickly recalled his name…Jarvis.

"What is it?" She asked, noting how flustered he looked.

He twitched his eyes to her and then Adric, "The Game is over."

"Already?"

"You came here to tell us something we could have figured out on our own?" Adric asked with a hard glare.

"No you don't understand. There were two Victors."

Pandora narrowed her eyes. Adric tilted his head.

"That's impossible," she said.

"Possible or not, two victors have just been named. Adric this is for you," Jarvis nodded as he hand a paper to him, "From the PSO."

Pandora didn't have to look at Adric to know that this was not only unheard of, but also bad. Two victors. The only way that it could happen is if the Head Gamemaker went over the President's head. President Snow would have never allowed two winners.

"I have to go," Adric suddenly said.

"I'm coming."

"No."

"I said I'm coming."

He clenched his jaw in irritation, "Fine."

Together they walked through the streets. With a graceful swoop she pulled her hood up and scanned the growing crowd. With all the celebrations and chaos no one even noticed her. All citizens were too busy celebrating the ending of the games. Their screams rang out. She let Adric grab her hand as they navigated through the mob. She had never seen the Capitol like this. A recap on a large screen showed the finale in the arena. A boy with blonde hair and a girl with black hair were the champions. Both from District 12. All along the street, names were being chanted.

"Katniss!"

"Peeta!"

She didn't recognize the names, but then again Pandora wouldn't have.

It was several blocks before they arrived at the doors. The hood shadowed Pandora's grim face as they moved to the elevators.

"I've never seen them like that," she finally whispered.

Adric swallowed hard, "I have a bad feeling about this."

"The President—"

"There's never two. There's always one."

Pandora closed her lips and pulled her hood down.

"Who summoned you?"

"My father."

Even in the thickest of corridors they could hear the Capitol screaming. 3 levels of clearance past. Then 4. Each section they went through was abandoned. Not a soul was out. It cloaked the building in wisps of eeriness and mystery. Even with her muted emotions Pandora always felt a strange tingle at the back of her neck when she was in the Panem Special Operations Building. For a moment she recalled the glint of a needle before it was inserted into her skull and then the burning pain coursing throughout her body. Her hands rose to the back of her neck, her fingers traced the scar.

Soon the last checkpoint came into view.

"Don't speak once inside. They'll be wondering why you're there in the first place."

She nodded in understanding just as the doors parted.

This was a place Pandora had never been. She stayed close to Adric as they entered a large room with walls of screens and machines. In the center a table was bustling with military officials. Her eyes glanced to the screens. Most were black—all except 12. The closer she got the more clearly the pieces fell together. 12 screens for 12 Districts.

"Why is _she_ here?" An officer asked. Pandora shifted her gaze to him for a brief second before returning her attention to the screens.

"She's with me," Adric quickly said.

"She isn't authorized—"

"Dorian. Take your seat."

The voice was unmistakable. General Trajan Pedersen rose from the head chair. He wasn't a man that needed to speak to show his dominance. His presence alone was worth trembling over. Pandora remembered the first time she met him—how it had unsettled her so—now every time she saw him she felt a gaping hollowness in place of that unease.

"But sir!"

"I said sit! Pandora Sullivan has my authorization to attend this meeting."

"She's not a soldier."

"Oh?" He glowered, "The President himself has given such an honor to her, but you already know that don't you? Adric escort Miss Sullivan to a seat."

Pandora glanced to her friend before she started moving. The worry and strain in his face stared back at her. He tried to hide it from his father—the one person he truly feared—but at best the grimace remained.

After some time silence fell like dust. Trajan allowed it to swallow the room. He slowly cleared his throat and sipped his water. Everyone knew they had to wait, everyone knew the General was the first to speak. Pandora cupped her hands on the table. A few officers were staring at her—their suspicion read so apparently that it made her smile.

"Two victors," was all Trajan said. "How did this happen? For 74 years the games go through without a problem and then this happens."

"A few of my logistic soldiers have said Seneca Crane is responsible," one officer spat out. He was sweating.

_Seneca Crane_, Pandora lowered her eyes, _The Head Gamemaker_.

"Apparently he took pity on them. He thought two winners was better than one, sir."

Trajan rose from his seat and pressed his fists against the obsidian table, "Do you hear those people out there, right now?"

Faint cries murmured through the walls.

"We can't have this."

"The Capitol will be over these two in a years time, sir. This isn't—"

"The Capitol will bleed from this! Here is not the problem. It's out there—out in the Districts, that's where the problem is."

Pandora felt Adric tense beside her.

"The Districts won't be so easily moved by this. These two will fade into the background just like the rest, sir."

A few of the officers anxiously peered to Pandora as that was said. She replied with a nod and smile to each of them. Her presence at the table made them nervous. No wonder she hadn't been training with the rest of their soldiers, the officers were terrified of her.

"Are you a fool, Dorian? Look over there—Look, all of you!" Trajan's finger was pointing to the screens. Most were quiet, but a few were very active. District 11. District 3. Pandora's eyes dropped before she allowed herself a look at the 7th screen.

"Riots are forming."

"They'll be over within the month, sir."

"Adric?"

"Yes, sir?" his hazel eyes focused on his father.

"What do you think?"

"I think—" he peered to Pandora cautiously, "—I think this is the beginning of something."

"Yes. And I've been given strict orders to put these Districts to heel. You there, Miss Sullivan?"

Her eyes lifted slowly to Trajan.

"What do you think we should do?"

"Sir, she's one of them. She's going to—"

"Pandora Sullivan was taken as a prisoner by the rebels. She was tortured and almost killed. She has proven herself as a member of the Capitol and she would never betray her city."

Adric wanted to leap across the table and strangle his father. Those were the words of Snow, but it wasn't that which made him so angry. It was the look on Pandora's face. Complete compliance. He pursed his lips. _Our enemies_, she had said. Of course he'd ask her what she would do, they had hardwired her brain for such strategies as this.

"Miss Sullivan, what do you think we should do?"

Pandora rubbed her fingers together and leaned back, "District 12 is an outlying District. For there to be two winners from 12, let alone one, is unheard of."

"And?"

"It's given the other Districts a glimpse of what could be. Hope I think is the humblest term for it."

Trajan stared.

"The solution is simple, take away the hope and they have nothing to fight for."

"We could have distractions, sir. Things to take their minds off the idea of fighting back," Dorian suggested.

"Distractions won't work," Pandora quickly replied.

"Then we could starve them out, they won't be so tough without their food."

"Have you ever felt the pang of starvation, Officer? Not just a little tickle in between your third and fourth meal, but real starvation?"

"Well—no."

"I have. And I can tell you this, no amount of distractions would have diverted my attention away from that hungry. It would eat away at me, soon it would be all I could think of, and I would resent whoever took that food away from me. Take away the District's food and it will give them a reason to unify."

"So what do you suggest, Miss Sullivan?" Trajan's voice was very quiet. Adric noticed the strange cadence very well. It was what his father sounded like when he was proud. Pandora was impressing Trajan.

"Take away their reason to follow the hope they see in these two victors. Without common ground a rebellion won't be possible."

"And if that doesn't work?"

Her eyes confidently stayed on his, "Violence begets more violence. However, if your unable to suppress what you see as a growing uprising, then certain military measures would have to be taken."

"The Districts won't unify! They are nothing without the Capitol!" Dorian yelled to Pandora.

Her eyes glanced to him, a condescending smile appearing on her lips. "You shock me, Officer. You should know the first rule of fighting. Never underestimate your opponent. Perhaps you've been out of the game for a while. Back in 7 I can assure you they would tear you apart given the chance. Limbs, head, and what ever else they could claw at. They would do it. Humans are humans. Sometimes when you attack them they bite back. If you're smart you know when to bite and the Districts are very hungry...I'm sure the bite they finally take will be a big one."

Adric was staring at her in disbelief. A part of him wanted to shut her up, but there was another part that was uncontrollably captivated. This wasn't the old Pandora but a machine. He could see it in the glint of her eyes and the quirk of her smile. It was the same look she got when they were training. The machine Pandora had an obsessive need to obey and strategize, but the old one stood against everything she was saying. It was as if there were triggers in her brain, triggers that when switched on would make her body and lips go on autopilot—on autopilot she was a perfect soldier and rationalizer, but she also lacked empathy, and to lack empathy was dangerous. Suddenly he was afraid.

"And what of Seneca Crane? What would you do with him?"

"He broke the chain of command. I suppose if I were President Snow I would execute him."

The room flew in a sudden uproar. All but Trajan started muttering and flipping through papers.

Adric shook his head and creased his brow. "There's no reason to execute the Head Gamemaker!" he suddenly exclaimed.

Pandora turned her head slightly and glanced to him. Her lips were pressed together softly but her eyes were as hard as ice. "A crime unpunished only leads to more crimes."

"Crimes?" He whispered, his eyes wildly scanned her face. _What was she talking about? When did it become a crime to save two human beings? _

Sudden confusion filled her eyes before she turned back to Trajan and leaned forward, "I am only speaking logically. That is the logical solution."

"Of course it is, Miss Sullivan," Trajan smiled, "Of course. I want the training schedules of all peacekeepers and soldiers increased in the coming weeks. All officers are to keep an organized squadron. We don't know what to expect, so it's best to prepare for the worst…Adric?"

He was still astounded by everything that had just happened. He felt as if the blood was rushing out of his face, "Yes, sir?"

"Miss Sullivan will be under your command. If soldiers are forced into the Districts to suppress the riots, she will be stationed with you."

"Yes—of course, sir."

"Good. Everyone is dismissed."

Officers swiftly rose from the table and started scattering. Each one of them eyed Pandora with both awe and ill will, before they took their leave.

In the streets, Capitol citizens were still celebrating the finale. They drunkenly stumbled around the streets and proposed toasts with laughs and jokes. Fireworks exploded. Cries of delight sang. Adric hadn't spoken since the meeting. His eyes stayed on the ground. Pandora struggled to keep up with him, every once in a while she looked over expecting him to look at her but he never did.

"You're upset," she finally said.

"Am I?"

"Yes. You look upset."

"Stop speaking like a robot, Pandora," he snapped.

She closed her eyes and took in a breath, "I am not speaking—"

"Did you hear yourself in there? I told you not to say anything."

"He asked me."

"And you had a choice to say nothing, you chose wrong."

"It would have been disrespectful to refrain. I don't understand what I did wrong."

He stopped abruptly and turned to her. From above, confetti was falling all around them. Pandora stared into his eyes.

"Snap out of it!" He roared.

She staggered back, her breath catching in her throat.

"Think, Pandora. They've done something to your brain, you're the only one that can fix it."

She glanced around the street, "We shouldn't be speaking about this here."

"You think they even hear us? They're too busy celebrating the games. Games that you used to hate."

"I—" she moved her lips for a moment silently before her face screwed up, "I know."

"Don't you care? Don't you hate them for what they did?"

Her eyes blinked in a frenzy, "I don't know." Truly she didn't.

"I saw the charts from the tests Viktor did on you after you woke up. You failed almost everything."

"No."

"Yes, your brain is—it's been tampered with, you can't feel the things you used to. Not in the same way."

She shook her head, "I can."

"So when I tell you that your family is probably starving in District 7 right now what does it make you feel?"

She stepped back again, by now they were wedged into an alleyway. The noise blotted out their conversation to any passing ears. She rubbed her lips together. "I—" she tried to steady her breaths, "I don't know."

Adric quickly looked away.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Her eyes flashed with anger, "What you're saying is treacherously against the Capitol. You want the Districts to succeed?"

"Maybe I do, is that bad?" He shot a challenging look her way, "What are you going to do then, huh? Are you going to turn me in, Pandora?"

"No…I'd never…"

"Why?" He stepped closer. Her eyes lifted.

"Because—we're friends. I would never want to hurt you."

He held his breath for a heartbeat before determination forced his lips to move.

"Good. You feel that? That feeling you get when you say that—that emotion?" he was pointing to her heart, "You remember that feeling? I'm not going to let them take control of you. No one has the right to take your fire away, Pandora. But you need to stay strong, don't let your brain get in the way of that feeling. You remember that when you hear your brother's names, remember it when you think of Finnick and District 7. Remember, Pandora…_Remember_."


	7. My Shadow's Shedding Skin

_My Shadow. Change is Coming Through My Shadow. My Shadow's Shedding Skin._

Fireworks heralded the closing ceremonies. Along the streets two names were on the lips of every citizen. Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen. Media was calling them the star-crossed lovers, and the public was eating it up. You had only to peer out a window and take a step before being assaulted by the city's admiration for new Victors. The effect was daunting. Slowly the order was crumbling—any fool could see it. Maybe the Capitol citizens didn't realize the true meaning of this victory but the rest of Panem did. A sleeping beast was starting to wake.

Presently Pandora Sullivan was sitting in President Snow's greenhouse. The chaste white roses were budding, their green tails snaking through the air. She watched as he snapped the head off of one and examined the petals. It was obvious how much he cared for his roses. The core of his house was dedicated to the prickly plant. He touched the glossy leaves with such care that it made Pandora wonder how someone who was so cruel to humans be so tender to a flower.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"You wanted to speak with me. It seems you're growing fond of me. These meetings are becoming more and more routine."

"Oh my dear Miss Sullivan, I've always been fond of you."

Pandora lowered a water glass from her lips. A lie and an obvious one at that, but it sounded like the truth. He always had a way with words. He used them like a weapon.

"General Pedersen informed me of your thoughts during the meeting. He was impressed, which impressed me. Although I hear some officers didn't take too kindly to your opinions."

"They don't trust me."

"Should they?"

"I make it point to withhold as much trust as possible. However beautiful the swaying grass is there's always something lurking beneath."

"You've done nothing to prove yourself. Most of them are afraid...ever since you nearly strangled that solider during your demonstration. Others think your heart isn't in it."

Her scrutiny gravely lingered on Snow's face. He wasn't looking at her but she still felt watched. It wouldn't be surprising to learn that his delicate roses had ears and eyes of their own. _Chaste little roses…and just like his enemies he was chopping their heads off one by one_.

"They want me to take pleasure in killing innocent people?"

"I saw the way you squeezed that young man's neck. Are you claiming you didn't like that? I must have mistaken your grief for enjoyment, although it was hard to tell, what with the careful way your fingers gripped."

"I was told to show my skills."

"And you did. Most efficiently. I was proud."

Her eyes dropped.

"Something's coming, Miss Sullivan. These Victors have changed the game. I'm sure you know this. I'm sure you've seen the wheels already turning."

"Yes."

"I can't have that."

She thought of Adric and felt her whole body course strangely, unevenly, like her mind was detached from the rest. Repose was fighting anxiety. Uncomfortably she shifted in her seat.

"Tonight I'll crown the Victors, and you will be with me. I want them to see what a real champion looks like."

Just another way for Snow to keep Pandora in his pocket, and she knew it. Her finger traced the rim of the glass. All she had done was comply and allow tragedy to drown her. Apparently this made her a champion in the President's eyes.

"They're calling Katniss Everdeen the girl on fire, have you heard? It's funny how just a few parlor tricks can rally a whole crowd behind one little girl," this time when he cut a rose off the stem it was more violent—the whole bush shook. "She's the real problem, not that boy…it's _her_. Giving hope to the people. She should have died like the rest of them."

"The brightest fires die the quickest."

"Not quick enough," the silence felt heavy. A few leaves dropped to Snow's feet before he continued, "Tell me something, Pandora...why haven't you asked about your family?"

Her jaw clenched. The question was so sudden, it was unexpected. "The thought hadn't occurred to me."

He was watching her. A sly smile formed on his swollen lips. She had grown used to the strangely odorous perfume that seeped from him but she had never grown used to that smile. Ever since Pandora had reemerged from her coma Snow made sure to have weekly visits with her. As the months wore on he started to smile at Pandora as if she were some territory he had conquered. Of course, in many ways he had. Each time she met with Snow a part of her disappeared. _That was the hardest part_, she thought, _learning to hold onto the significant parts_. Values were placed on different things in the Capitol: beauty, strength, and obedience—much to Pandora's regret her brain did everything it could to please the President even when her heart refused.

"You can't even remember them, can you? Not fully."

She thought and thought, trying to recall memories. What he was saying wasn't fully true. She remembered hunting, she remembered laughing…there was just no room in her brain to reflect on such memories. Nonetheless she knew she still loved them. That was something unbreakable. She still loved them, even if she didn't understand what love was anymore.

"I love my family," the words felt strange on her tongue, she ended up sounding confused.

"Of course you do, Miss Sullivan. That's why you're here, isn't it? Love."

It had all happened so long ago. Somehow the years had gotten away from her.

"Yes, I think so."

Calculatingly he lowered his pruners and pulled off his gloves. A cloud of perfume enveloped Pandora as he crouched to her side and stared into her eyes, "We're your family now, Pandora. You wouldn't want to hurt your family would you?"

"No."

His smile reappeared. "Everything Katniss Everdeen stands for will hurt your family. Your one in District 7, your one here. It will hurt Kol Flemming, even _Adric Pedersen_. You have to protect your family. You remember the way those rebels tortured you? Does that seem like justice? Is that what freedom means?"

Her lips parted. Though her face was unreadable her insides felt like they were melting.

_Remember!_ Adric's voice screamed and seared, _remember!_

She tilted her head up and confidently gazed back at the President. He seemed to take that as a quiet yes and nodded.

"I want you to stand beside me tonight with that look of yours—unforgiving and unrelenting. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good," like some sort of magic trick he pulled out a freshly cut rose and offered it to her, "For you."

She flicked her eyes between the flower and his face before gently receiving it and bowing her head. Her lips tug together solemnly. The saddest part was she couldn't find the determination to hate him. Hate was the hardest emotion to feel anymore. She stared at each petal and twirled it between her fingers. Something so white and pure felt foreign in her hands, at one point it would have felt right to hold this crisp virtue in her grasp but not anymore. She was like one of Snow's roses, only now she was wilting.

"Thank you," she whispered as she watched Snow trample the fallen leaves with his polished shoes. He barely noticed the crunch of them as he stepped, but Pandora did. Not quite like crushing bone, but close enough. She stared at the smears of green juice on his spotless marble floor. Without a smile she followed him.

The afternoon was coming to a close. Only a few short hours later Pandora found herself at the edge of a balcony peering at a crowd that, for once, wasn't cheering for her. For the ceremonies Pandora wore a black skirt and suit jacket, the collar of which kissed her cheeks. She was like a quiet shadow next to the President. A few members of the crowd pointed up to her and called out her name but she ignored them without a smile. That seemed to make her more appealing. With every second she didn't acknowledge them they yearned more and more for a brief glance. Then the Victors appeared. Attention shifted. The cheering changed and relief swept over her like a warm blanket.

Cameras swung around to capture the closing ceremony. Fireworks lit up the blue sky with crackling reds, greens, and yellows. The anthem bellowed from some unknown source. By the time the star-crossed lovers reached the balcony the crowd was drooling. The President said a few words, but Pandora barely heard a thing over the noise of the clawing mob below. As was a tradition a golden wreath was placed on each Victors' head. They received the honor with vacant expressions and empty eyes. Only once did one of them look to Pandora, when it happened she was surprised. The glance was from the boy. At first she did as Snow ordered but heartbeats passed and the willpower to remain unforgiving dulled. It wasn't out of pity that her face softened…it was something she saw. A glimmer in his eyes stopped her breath. That crystal blue glimmer reminded Pandora of someone she had known long ago.

_Marius_, she thought. _He has Marius's eyes_.

Abruptly the smell of pines suffocated her breath. It was impossible. There were no trees around, but the smell was so fragrant, so striking. She was remembering when Marius was reaped, how sad he looked. Her heart felt strange.

When the boy finally looked away the images from that other life faded. Slowly the tension in her chest lifted. In admiration the crowd broke into applause the moment the Victors stepped forward and held hands. At that moment Pandora had to look away. Again, it felt like her heart was choking her. A thought whispered at the back of her mind. Marius would have never stood here, Marius would have won and grown to be a man, have a family, make a life in District 7. Marius was good, gentle and kind.

_He should be alive_, the old Pandora shouted in a fury, _but he's gone_.

_Just like the rest of them_, the machine Pandora observed, _and nothing you do will bring them back. _

Her eyes dropped for a split second. Nothing. That word clung to her. All of this would fade to nothing, and she'd still be there. Whether it was the rumble of the crowd or the surge of confusion her feet started to tremble.

Afterward, when the stars burned like lanterns and the train had left the Capitol, Pandora found herself walking. She walked numbly, because that was how she felt. Slowly she unbuttoned her jacket and peeled it off. The cool air felt good on her skin, but it was a breeze that wouldn't smother the fire inside, no matter how much she wished it would.

Without warning rain started to fall. It kissed her, baptized her with melancholy.

She turned down a darkened alleyway. That was when a curious breeze suddenly blew in.

"Will we meet through the pine?" the draft sang.

Instantly she froze. Her eyes widened.

"The way is tempered with time…"

With a stealthy pivot she spun around. Her wet skirt blew in the wind, "Who's that?!" she shouted.

Only darkness and rain was behind her. Her eyes darted around.

Then the wind changed again.

"I've been waiting there a long long while."

She gasped for breath. For the first time since her coma she felt terrified. Her fingers clawed at that wall.

"If this is some joke, I'll—"

"Joke?"

The voice invaded all her sense. She couldn't just hear it, she could taste it…smell it. This time when Pandora turned around she staggered back and screamed.

At first he was just a silhouette, but his features soon illuminated in the pale moonlight. Marius was standing like a phantom in the rain. His hair was soaked just like hers. His eyes were bleeding, thick crimson. He looked like a corpse.

"No…" she shut her eyes and panted. White breath rose from her lips, "…you're dead, you're dead, you're not here, you're dead…"

"Underneath the bowing branches, our melodies sweetly shine."

The song she had sung. The one that had given her courage during the arena. He was singing it now.

Suddenly and unexplainably memories from the arena blistered her brain sending a deep and painful cry out of her lungs. It physically hurt. The memories were like tiny needles attacking her mind. She whimpered as they flickered.

The sonar eels slithering through the water towards her.

Scorch's cruel laugh.

The way it felt when the knife went into Marius's heart. The way his eyes dimmed with death.

She had killed Marius. She had killed him. This wasn't real. _It couldn't be_.

"SHUT UP!" She roared, cupping her hands over her ears. "You're not real!"

Challenging her terror she forced her eyes opened and stared ahead. He was still there. Blood rushed down his face, somehow the rain wasn't washing it away. She pressed her back against the wall and breathlessly shook her head. It looked like black smoke was rising off of him as he walked forward. He was some kind of dark apparition.

"Go away!" she wailed.

He charged towards her. His hand locked around her neck. The grip felt like burning ice. Smoke spilled from his mouth as he spoke.

"You're a coward!"

"No…" she clawed at his hand. It felt so real, _but it wasn't_. She was imagining things.

"They'll all die! Wake up! You're still sleeping! **WAKE UP**!"

The smoke quickly turned to liquid fire.

She bared her teeth.

"Not real, you're not real…" she whispered.

With all the courage Pandora could muster she shoved the shadow, but her hands went right through him. Her foot caught on a dip in the pavement and she fell. When she hit the pavement water splashed and a trembled yelp shook her whole being. Blood gushed out of a fresh wound on her forehead, it seeped into the puddles.

"Leave me alone!" She continued to scream. Rain poured, but the singing had stop. The words had stopped.

She struggled with hoarse breaths as she lifted her eyes, expecting to see the ghost of Marius once more…but he was gone. Disappeared. It was just her alone in an alley, with only the rain as her companion. She had always been alone.

Pandora pressed her fingertips to the gash and winced. Blood oozed down her hand. Dark spots started to form in her vision. Before she could force herself to her feet she collapsed onto the ground once more in a fit of confused hysteria and fear.


	8. Into the Half-light, Through the Flame

_Into the Half-light and Through the Flame _

Fire roared. An obsidian ocean cradled her. The dream began exactly were it had ended.

Hoarfrost waves splashed around her slim body. Water cascaded down her lips and chin—whether it was tears or ocean she couldn't tell. This wasn't a phantom sea. In a different time, in a different nightmare, Pandora had been here before.

_Swim_ said the wind.

The fire reflected in her eyes as turned to the west. A burning shoreline, blazing with fury. She remembered this. She remembered the wind's voice. Without another thought her legs started to dance, then her arms. Salt stung her eyes the more she wrestled through the waves. From the beach screams were crying into the night.

Every stroke was an eternity.

_I should be moving faster_, she thought.

_Move faster_.

Plumes of acrid smoke blotted out the moon and stars. The world around her was darkness cloaked in flame.

A deep breath filled her lungs.

She was getting closer. She could feel the heat from the shoreline now. Waves crashed with turbulent force. From deep below an unexpected murmur stirred.

At first it was just a caress but soon the gentle licks started to pull. In panic her fingers sprawled out, her hands desperately reached for the sky. Suddenly she was sinking. The ocean covered her face, burning her nostrils and eyes. Further and further into the depths she sank. Black water whirled around. Something was down there with her, some nameless horror. Shadows churned. Beads of air cried out of her mouth and nose as she struggled for freedom.

The shadows had faces. Faces she knew.

_Swim_.

The voice was louder this time. More urgent. It called from someplace above.

Her eyes lifted to the mirrored surface.

_I'm not supposed to be here_, strands of her hair drifted around her head like ink._ I have to move_.

Her arms painfully thrashed against the immersed shadows. She clawed and kicked, she did it till the invisible chains broke. Sudden streams of current pushed her up until finally she broke through the black gravities and into the open air.

The first breath of freedom was the only one that made her feel alive, the only one before she realized she wasn't alone anymore.

Bodies glided all around. They filled the ocean with their decomposition and blood. With a gasp Pandora started to swim. The shore was so close, _so close_…she need only to reach out and touch the flames.

_Just a little further_.

The corpses knocked around her with slick skin and mangled faces. Some she knew, others she would know.

With one final gust of wind a wave tumbled over Pandora. She spun in a mess of limbs, screams, and hair for several heartbeats before resurfacing and crashing into the rocky shore. Water spilled over her body.

She had done it. She had reached the shore. But there was no pride in this achievement. She couldn't stop moving, not now. They were screaming. They needed her.

Her hands struggled with the stony beach. She tried to run, only to slip on the hemorrhaging rocks. Blood covered her hands and legs. She stared down in horror. Behind was the darkness, ahead the inferno of destruction screaming her name.

Rivers of crimson glided down her alabaster skin. Fresh blood, and not her own. Her eyes lifted to the sky. The shore was weeping, it cried for her.

But soon the cries transformed into something else. The landscape was dissolving. She was faded away from the dream. Dread washed over her. She had to keep moving.

_This wasn't her life. She needed to get back_.

A quick gasp of sleepless breath suddenly shook Pandora Sullivan's entire body. Instantly her eyes fluttered open. She half-expected to still smell the burning shoreline, see blood running down her arms and legs…but that had all disappeared. Sweat soaked her pillow and sheets, but there was no ocean. The dream had evaporated the moment she awoke.

A deep howl crooned.

"Seven," she whispered. Her wolf's mournful song brought her back to reality.

With heavy breaths she dragged herself out of bed and grabbed her robe. It was almost noon, yet tiredness lingered in her limbs and joints. She passed through the hall and swallowed away the dryness of sleep from her throat.

She had barely stepped into her bathroom when she caught sight of her reflection. In surprise she stopped short. A cut in her forehead stared back at her. The second Pandora saw it the pain and memory returned. The alleyway and Marius's ghost grabbing her throat—just the thought of it made her heart tighten.

"It wasn't real," she quickly said aloud, "Just your imagination. Not real."

She had lain in the alleyway half the night, unable to pick herself up. It wasn't until the sun started to rise that she forced herself to move. Even in the comfort of her own bed she had trouble falling asleep, and for good reason.

She pursed her lips as she thought of the dream. Terrible dream. For so long she had been free of nightmares, and now it seemed they were back.

Another howl, more insistent than the last, bellowed.

Pandora hurriedly turned around. The morning light was blinding as she stumbled into the living room. Seven's back was arched. He was growling at the door.

"What is it?"

Footsteps mumbled. Seven growled again. Someone was coming.

"Come," the wolf whined in reply, refusing to obey. He was on the defense. Whoever was coming had set him off like a firework.

One booming knock rattled the front door.

"Seven, come!"

Finally he trotted to her side.

"Stay," she ordered, tying her robe, "Good boy."

A panel to the side of the entrance showed who was on the other side of the door.

"Miss Sullivan?"

It was a man. He had a large scar running down half his face, but he couldn't have been far from her age. The man was a soldier. His decorations weren't high but they were still decorations.

"Yes. Who is it?"

"May I come in?"

Skeptically she stared at the surveillance panel, "What do you want?"

"Forgive me, Ma'am. I was told to speak with you in person. Open up."

Seven growled behind her. She furrowed her brow.

"You're not entering my home without identifying yourself, soldier."

That seemed to amuse him. His scar wrinkled when he smiled. "First Sergeant Baro Reyes, Miss Sullivan. Would you like to see my papers?"

Her teeth gritted together before she pushed the panel away, but her agitation vanished as soon as she opened the door.

Baro Reyes was built like a tank. His arms were masses of muscle, the scar much more gruesome in person, and his smile the habit of a man that knew his own strength. In astonishment Pandora stumbled back and parted her lips. The soldier mistook that as an invitation and quickly walked by her. She noticed that he had to hunch to get through the doorway. With every step he took the floor trembled.

Baro's dark eyes landed on Seven instantly. He must have heard the wolf through the door.

"I heard you had a pet, didn't think it was going to be that big."

She didn't like the way the soldier smiled at Seven. There was cruelty behind his gaze. "Why are you here?"

"That's a nasty cut you have there."

Pandora lifted her hand to her head. "I fell during the rainstorm last night. Slipped on the pavement."

"Funny, I heard you were quick on your feet."

"Did you now?"

He scanned her up and down, a strange smile appeared on his lips and for a split second Pandora thought he might be here to kill her, but then he stepped back. "You can close your door now, Miss Sullivan."

The agitation she had felt returned. The soldier was pompous. He wasn't speaking to her, he was barking orders.

"How kind of you to say," She hissed, letting the door slam shut, "You haven't answered my question."

"I'm here to take you to the Armory."

"I don't follow orders from a sergeant."

"First Sergeant."

"Adric Pedersen is the only one—"

"Who do you think sent me? So, are you coming or not, doe eyes?"

Her hands balled into fists. "Why didn't he come himself?"

Baro pulled his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair. His eyes were twitching around her apartment, but they lingered on the floor for longer than normal. Pandora squinted to where he was looking. Carved scratches on the wood floor gazed back.

"Your wolf must have sharp claws."

"Those aren't from my wolf."

The night Finnick had left, Pandora had torn the apartment apart. The scratches were from the shattered glass and jagged metal that had scraped and bruised the floor. They were the only things that remained as a souvenir to what had happened. When she looked at it she felt a tinge of dryness at the back of her throat but nothing else.

"You seem nervous," Baro suddenly observed.

She stepped back, "I don't get nervous."

"Everyone gets nervous, Miss Sullivan."

"Not me."

His smile was wicked. "Right. So I hear. Well, you better get dressed, we don't want to keep them waiting."

"Them?"

"We're being summoned. Haven't you heard? Last night more riots broke out. They attacked peacekeepers."

Her eyes dropped. Suddenly she was aware that she was only in a robe. It felt sheer and exposing, "Just—just give me a minute."

The short walk to the car made Pandora even more apprehensive towards Baro. In the elevators he smiled but never spoke. Yuri, her concierge, trembled as the solider passed—even shot Pandora a look of pure fear. When she contended to take her own car, Baro placed his hand on her back and insisted.

In the car he started to hum. She knew the song all too well. The folk song from her District, the one Marius's ghost had whisper to her the night before. That was the song that Baro Reyes was humming now.

"You had such a wonderful voice…I still remember when you sang it during the final interview."

She leaned away and tried to keep her eyes on the window, "Thank you."

"Such a sweet thing you were. All the soldiers thought so. I know a few that keep your pictures under their pillows and on their walls. You'll be a sight for sore eyes when we deploy. A little slice of cake."

She grimaced and pushed further into the window. It was obvious that Baro was trying to intimidate her. Truthfully it was starting to work. Every time Pandora looked at the soldier she was reminded of a predator.

"You know Adric Pedersen?"

"Yes. We're friends. Great friends."

"I've never heard him mention you."

"No?" He shrugged, "Well I guess we're not great friends, just good."

His laugh made her muscles twitch. When he started to whistle the song she felt her breaths shake.

"The officers are scared of you, huh? I don't see it."

She didn't reply, which made him smile.

"I don't see the big deal. You're just like any other woman. I've known quite a few women."

"I can imagine."

He chuckled callously and slapped his knee. Pandora cringed. "I don't think you can, Miss Sullivan."

_No_, she thought, _and I don't want to_.

The Armory was swarming with varied ranks of military personnel. While pushing through a sea of soldiers and scientists Pandora thought about breaking free from Baro and going on by herself, but every time she tried he was right behind her. He may have been the size of a skyscraper, but he was quick. They ascended several floors by elevator until they reach the top. A flight of stairs was waiting for them the minute the door opened up.

Quickly Pandora realized they were heading to the roof. Her hands rubbed together as they passed through a checkpoint and out into the open air. The chilly wind kissed her face and arms. Clouds from another rainstorm were looming overhead. It would be autumn soon.

From the top of the Armory Pandora suddenly comprehended how large the building was. The roof was big enough to hold 6 of the op-jets and still leave space for roughly a hundred people. At that moment there were only 3 jets.

Everyone rushed to stations. They were loading things onto the beastly machines. Mechanics buzzed below the aircraft, checking to see if everything was running efficiently.

"What's going on?!" She shouted, but the noise of a roaring jet muted her question.

A troop of soldiers dashed by them with packages and weapons. A few shot Pandora strange looks.

"Keep up, Miss Sullivan!" Baro shouted back.

She struggled to follow him. His legs were much longer and each time she stepped there was something new to pause and look at. Pandora couldn't shake a feeling that had been growing inside of her the moment she woke up. She was puzzlingly frightened. The last time she felt this way she had been strapped to a machine with experimental serums rushing into her veins. Her lips curled in disgust as she remembered the way Adric had stared at her, the way he had screamed. She saw it clearly on his face then and understood it now…she should have died, but a cruel twist of fate and science had kept Pandora here. Maybe she was in hell now. Maybe that was why she couldn't make sense of her emotions, couldn't feel things she used to feel.

"There she is! Reyes, I told you to be back here in an hour. What the hell were you doing?"

Her eyes twitched forward. Standing only a few paces away was General Trajan. He was wearing his uniform and yelling commands at people.

"Sorry, sir. It took longer than expected."

Pandora arched her eyebrow. That was the first time she had heard Baro sound respectful. Something told her it was forced.

"You can help Jarvis with communications. Get out of here. Miss Sullivan, step forward."

She hustled towards Trajan and straightened her back.

"Looks like you were right, the Districts are biting and we need to do something about it."

"So soon?"

He regarded her coldly before pulling out a handheld screen, "Look at that."

She narrowed her eyes. It was footage from one of the Districts. Just as Baro had said the citizens were attacking the peacekeepers. Each face in the crowd was a much more intense shade of desperation and anger. She recalled a time when she had felt the way these people looked.

"We have to do something. I've been given orders to deploy 3 teams."

Pandora's head was spinning. It had only been two weeks ago that the riots had started, surely they should wait a few months before taking such measures…but when she looked at Trajan's stone face she kept her silence. There was no debating with him, and the compliant part of her knew it would be disrespectful.

"Pandora?"

Her head craned around. Adric had a rucksack hauled over his shoulder. His blonde hair was haphazardly parted to the side, dark circles were under his eyes. He glanced to his father and then back to her in shock, "What is she doing here?"

"We need her."

"No! She's not coming."

"What did you say to me?"

He shifted back, "Sorry, sir. It's just, we don't know how dangerous—"

"Are you challenging me, boy?"

"No, I—" he dropped his eyes.

"I hope not, because if you are then it will be very unpleasant for both of us. I'm your superior. Pandora Sullivan is coming."

"She's not ready. She's—she isn't up to par with the rest of them. She has no combat training, no understanding of military protocols."

Pandora glared at him. He was lying obviously, but the lie bothered her.

"She's stronger than your best fighter, and she knows what kind of people you'll be dealing with."

"Sir, I specifically asked to deploy without Pandora Sullivan."

"I am aware of that. I chose to ignore your request. The President has ordered that she goes."

Adric clenched his jaw and peered to her. "Who brought her here? I told everyone in my team to stay near the jet."

"Baro Reyes," she interrupted, "He said you had sent for me."

"Reyes—that bastard."

"I gave Reyes the orders, Adric. Miss Sullivan wants to help us. I think we should give her the chance. Don't test my patience, you're to leave within the hour."

Pandora parted her lips. She was trying to understand the look Adric was giving her. Anger read on his face, anger and worry.

_What is happening?_

For a heartbeat she caught him glancing to the small cut on her forehead and felt a surge of embarrassment. Adric had a way of picking up on small details and forming conclusions based on those intricate elements—most of the time his conclusions were right. Pandora didn't want him to know about the ghost. She didn't want him to worry even more than he already was.

"Be lucky I'm still letting her on your team after the way you just spoke to me."

When Adric looked away she felt her heart sink.

"Yes, sir."

"Hey! Sullivan!" Pandora spun around and lifted her hands just in time to catch a bundle Baro threw at her. He smiled as she staggered back. "I'll save you spot next to me!"

A chorus of laughter sounded from all the soldiers around him as they walked onto the nearest jet and disappeared inside. Suddenly the realization of what was about to happen set in. The rations and equipment being carted onto the jet were labeled boldly. District 6. Instincts told her she belonged on that jet and in the thick of it but they felt like someone else's.

Six years ago she was just a little girl from District 7. Yesterday she was a pawn in a deadly game. And today…well, she couldn't think of what she was today. It was a terrible mystery.

_This isn't my life_, she thought to herself. The gruesome dream suddenly felt like a forewarning—bleeding shores, screaming people. _But if this isn't my life than whose is it?_

By the time she turned back Adric was gone. Only General Trajan remained.

"Suit up, Miss Sullivan," He said with a baritone rumble, "You're about to go into the lion's den."


	9. In the Darkness of My Night

_In the Darkness of My Night_

Crows circled overhead. Their caws taunted Pandora. Those ugly black birds reminded her of the flightless state she was in, right now she could have done with a pair of wings to escape. It had been a long time since she had seen starvation and poverty. Although the sky was a brilliant blue, dreary buildings surrounded them. The streets were narrow, full of soot and disease. Manufacturing plants crooned a song of labor and engineering. District 6's industry was transportation, and it lived up to the harsh reputation it had. It was a small wonder that these people had just begun to riot. Their living conditions were frightening. The houses were small shanties, barely held together with nails and cement. Food shortages swept through the District. If humans could eat metal than the citizens would have been in luck. Weapon and machine parts outnumbered food rations 2 to 1. All around were whispers of the 74th Hunger Games. Revolt oozed thickly into every breath and action.

Pandora adjusted the scarf around her neck as the car sped down a gravel road. They had just arrived. Judging by many of the faces she had seen, the jet was both wondrous and terrifying to the people of District 6. It had landed with a hollow gust of air and the crowd had cowered—but she knew the cowering was only temporary, Pandora had seen the videos that refused to let her forget that fact.

"I want soldiers patrolling twice as much as they were."

Adric was beside her. He was leaning close to Baro Reyes. From time to time she would catch Baro looking at her. Each time he did she pretended to be ignorant, but it didn't matter. He knew she noticed the looks…and she wasn't the only one. Adric cleared his throat uncomfortably and clenched his jaw.

"Got it, Reyes?"

"Yea, of course. But we just arrived. We need to adjust, isn't that right, Sullivan?"

Pandora ignored him.

"It's important that we make our presence known right away. We need to solidify control. The peacekeepers have been messing this up."

"That's because peacekeepers are mindless drones."

"Be that as it may—"

"Hey Sullivan, you afraid to look at me? Does my scar scare you?"

Adric's face flushed in anger. "Reyes—"

"It's fine, Adric," Pandora interrupted, forcing herself to meet Baro's eyes. "No, your scar doesn't scare me."

"Oh? Maybe you'd be scared if you knew how I got it. It was given to me by a pretty girl from District 10, she didn't put up much of a fight once she was dangling from a tree."

Her blood ran cold. Her eyes dulled with fury, "I could care less how you got a little cut and if you continue to look at me like that I'll give you more than a scar to remember _me_ by."

"Oh I'll remember you just fine. I won't be forgetting that face anytime soon."

She clasped her lips together and turned her face to the windows, hoping that would dull her anger. It only made it worse. Next to her Adric narrowed his eyes, "Reyes."

"Hm?"

"You should be focusing your attention on organizing our team, not on Miss Sullivan."

"But who can resist."

"Stop looking at her like that."

Pandora heard the bite to his words. She peered to Adric's shadow…_always the protector_.

Reyes let out a laugh and leaned back. He looked like a bull in a china shop. "Yes, sir. Of course, sir. How inconsiderate of me. Adric, Adric, Adric…you've always been so serious, even when we were in school."

Potholes in the gravel road made the whole car sway. Outside they passed children that looked like skeletons, old men with missing limbs, and hunger-carved eyes.

"I hope we're not staying in these dumps," Reyes said.

Only a few years ago Pandora had lived in a dump not all that different than the ones they were driving by. She dropped her eyes. Home was far away. She was far away.

"The team will be staying in the Victor's Village while we're in District 6. It's virtually vacant. That should give us enough room."

By the time they had arrived there were already three vehicles unloading supplies into the houses. Baro quickly fell in with the others and spouted off mindless jokes. Most of the men could only carry a few boxes or bags, but not him. He slung whatever he could get his hands on over his shoulders and jogged into the houses without breaking a sweat.

Pandora saw her breath rise through the air as she watched him. It was cold, colder than it had been in the Capitol. She was wearing a black military jacket with a high collar and tight pants that tucked nicely into a pair of combat boots. The rows of silver buttons on her jacket gleamed in the sun.

"Try not to be too afraid of him. It'll only make it worse for you."

Adric had seen her looking.

She narrowed her eyes and wrapped a thick gray scarf around her neck. "I'm not afraid of him."

"Then you're a fool. I'm afraid of him."

"And that's suppose to mean something?"

Adric nodded, "I've seen what he can do. It means more than you think. C'mon, let's get you set up."

Nothing grew in District 6, at least not where the buildings were. In the distance Pandora could see trees and underbrush, but that was a long trek away. The ground was made up of rocky earth and cobblestone. The bushes and vegetation that grew along the paths was either moss or some kind of prickly weed. Bright orange blossoms flowered out of the abundant stalks. The buds looked out of place in such a colorless pile of rot.

"Why didn't you want me to come?"

"You know why."

"I can handle myself. I'm better when I'm around you."

Adric kicked a rock and nodded, "I'll give you three days. After that you'll be wishing you'd never come."

"Too late," Pandora smiled when she heard him laugh, "But I'm glad I'm here with you."

He adjusted the strap of his bag. She took his silence for surprise. "Careful now. You almost sound like the old Pandora."

"I almost feel like the old Pandora. Ever since—" she stopped herself.

"Since what?"

Her boots trampled through the rocky terrain. "Nothing, it's nothing."

District 6's Victor's Village was a wasteland. Iron gates surrounded the houses, rusting from age and neglect. Ever house looked identical—narrow red brick constructions slanting towards the forest. A few of the homes had broken windows, others were completely missing doors, and almost all of them were crumbling to the ground. The only occupied house was at the far end of Village. One surviving victor remained.

"I've been told he doesn't leave his house. He likes to keep to himself."

Pandora gazed down the way. The lonely house was dark apart from a single window. She could see a wrinkled man standing behind the curtain in the faint light. He was watching them.

"He shouldn't be a problem. The peacekeepers stationed here were getting a little help from him actually. Maybe he'll be useful to us, help us rein the rest of District 6 in. The less bloodshed the better."

Pandora kept her eyes on the old man, "I wouldn't count on it."

"It's a long shot."

"You can't put all your trust in that man. He'll chose his own kind over the soldiers."

"Well you're not one of us."

"No, Adric, I'm not. But I would never betray you. We're friends. That man isn't your friend."

As if the elderly victor had sensed what they were talking about he shrunk back into the darkness of the room. Pandora let out a white breath of air before following Adric.

The only way to describe the Victor's Village was eerie. It felt as if at one point this had once been a happy place, but time had changed that. _Everything stank of death and foreboding_, Pandora thought. Adric seemed to agree. He shivered in the silence.

Three teams had been deployed by the orders of Snow. The first went to District 11, the second to 3, and lastly there was their team. Three teams for the three Districts that were currently in upheaval. Only 10 soldiers were stationed in each team. Apparently the idea was to strengthen the Capitol's presence with organization and strategy, not an increase of numbers but an increase of discipline. Peacekeepers were one thing, and District 6 had many, but they were disordered. They lacked the control of Capitol soldiers. It was rare to see military officials like Baro or Adric in the Districts because they were special-ops fighters. They wore intricate black uniforms, not the regulation standards of peacekeepers.

Crows gathered on the edges of the houses. Their black eyes gazed down at her.

Pandora felt lost. She didn't understand why it was so important for her to be here. Snow had been specific. He wanted her in District 6, helping to blot out the riots. Logistically she could help with the soldiers, but so could many other officials. There was only one solution to this whole puzzle. Snow wanted her in District 6 to remind the people that even a past victor supported the Capitol. A clever tactic, and one he had been using since she won the games years ago. But something told her this time was different.

Adric threw his bag on the ground the moment they entered the house. Immediately he started investigating every nook and cranny. Peacekeepers had done a sweep of each Victor's Village home, but Adric was a perfectionist. Pandora followed behind slowly, her eyes studied the interior. Rotting wood covered the floors. Dust blanketed the rickety furniture and ash-ridden fireplace. It hadn't been lived in for years.

"Reports said some of 6's citizens were camping out in these homes."

Pandora glanced to Adric. They were on the second floor looking out onto the main square of the Village, "Maybe these houses are warmer than those others we passed when we drove through. Or they were looking for food."

"They weren't sleeping here because it was warmer, they were amassing weapons and plans," Pandora widened her eyes in shock, "Why do you think we were sent in?"

"I thought they were just riots."

"It's a fine line. Here's a riddle. How many riots does it take before it turns into a rebellion?"

Even inside the house Pandora could see her breath as she spoke, "You saw the people here, they barely look like they can pick up a rock let alone a gun."

"They're angry at us. You saw that too. You're not even from the Capitol and they hate you…" he rubbed his stumble and pursed his lips. She could tell he was thinking but his eyes distantly gazed off. When he spoke up again he unbutton his jacket, "I contacted Viktor before we deployed. He'll take care of Seven while you're away."

"Thank you," she thought that was fitting, after all Viktor was the one who gave the wolf to her.

"He used a cross-breed like Seven in these past games. Did you know that?"

"No—I didn't."

"They weren't like your wolf though. These were different. More monster than animal. I saw him just before the games were starting. He looks worse than I do."

Pandora looked away. A strand of hair fell over her eyes. "How long do you think we'll be here?"

"In a rush to get back to the Capitol?"

She smirked darkly, "It's creepy here and…I don't have a good feeling about this."

"The probability of us leaving before 6 months is low. We're here to pacify the people. It won't be easy."

"Snow wanted to show me off. That's why _I'm_ here. Some will recognize me if they haven't already."

Her comment made Adric nauseous, he carefully hid a grimace before shifting away from her. Moments of quiet passed until he cleared his throat. Somehow she knew what he was going to ask before he even spoke. His voice was a whisper. "Ever since when, Pandora?"

"What?"

"You said you've felt like your old self ever since something. What was it?"

She thought of Marius, of how it felt to remember the arena. For so long that part of her memory had been cloudy. It wasn't until last night that she was able to feel the weight of those dark days again. That whirlwind of memories had made her collapse onto the ground in terror.

"I saw—" her voice cut out. "—I saw Marius, the male tribute from my District. The one I killed."

"In a dream?"

"No. It wasn't a dream. I was awake—I just—I just saw him."

"You've been hallucinating again?"

She furrowed her brow, "This wasn't a hallucination. I think it was sign. At first I was confused, but that's starting to wear off now. I'm seeing things clearly. I feel…fear now. Things I couldn't remember before are all I can think about now."

"Like what?"

"I remember the time I caught Dash eating all the blackberries we had gathered. When my father would catch fireflies in jars with me. I remember the moment before I was going to board the train back to District 7. I had just won the games—you appeared out of the darkness. I remember you looked at me like you cared. I had hated you so much, but even then I knew the disgust wasn't honest. I just needed something to hate. Now I can't remember how I ever did hate you."

She turned to Adric. His lips were parted. He had to look away. She saw his cheeks flush.

"And?"

"Just before the closing ceremonies President Snow told me I had to protect my family. He tried to use you to manipulate me. He said everything Katniss Everdeen stood for would hurt not only my family back in District 7, but you."

"Only words."

"But they worked," she whispered, turning back to the windows, "I believe him. I'd rather live with this oppression then see you get killed by rebels."

"Pandora, you know that if a rebellion were to break out and succeed your family would be safe."

"I've already ensured my family's safety, Adric. I did that long ago. I sacrificed myself for that. I don't want a rebellion. If it happens I lose you and that can't happen. I owe you. You're my only friend, somehow you've become my best friend."

"You owe me nothing."

"You saved me. I was bleeding out. If you hadn't rescued me I'd be dead. Did you know I hadn't even remember all of that until Marius's ghost had strangled me? I had forgotten how scared I was. How it felt to be stabbed and beaten."

His face was growing pale, "I know."

"I asked you once who you fight for…well I know my answer. I don't think I realized it until I remembered how to be afraid. I'm fighting for you. I'm doing it because you never left me."

Silence replaced words for a time.

"So many people have left me, and I've left them. There faces used to haunt me…well I'm not going to leave you. I owe you my life. You may not think that, but it's true."

"Pandora—"

"You don't have to say anything. I lost my family the moment I signed those papers, I know that. It's _my_ fault. I should have been braver….but there's still time to make up for those past sins. I can't control everything about myself. You were right, they've messed with my brain. I can see that now. They want me to be just another muttation…sometimes I can't help but feel those bloodthirsty instincts take over. I'm trying, Adric…I don't want to be this person, but it's so hard. I feel nothing sometimes—" her breath shook, "—just emptiness."

His palms were slick with sweat. He was astonished. Side by side they stood. Neither one spoke. Wind whistled through the cracks in the window. The whole house creaked. Adric couldn't deny that he was happy she was with him now. Sorrowful cadences in her voice were glimpses to the parts of Pandora that had been buried long ago. He didn't just care for her, he loved her. He had always loved her. The three years she had been asleep were the worst years of his life because before Pandora he had never known what true strength and luminous fury was. To have that rip away felt like he had been drained of blood and oxygen. Pandora was the kindest human being he had ever met. Adric knew that he would never be good enough for that kind of radiant beauty. Truthfully he didn't think anyone could be. To be her silent companion was all Adric could ask for, anything more would have been selfish.

He stepped away from the windows and crossed his arms.

"My mother used to tell me bedtime stories. I suffered from terrible nightmares when I was younger." He finally found the courage to whisper, "I would wake up screaming and she'd come in. She was so gentle…there's one story that I always think of."

"Tell me it, Adric." Pandora listened quietly. He swallowed the dryness coating his lips and tongue. He was nervous.

"When the earth was very cold, cloaked in frost and snow, there was no hope for survival. Children froze in their beds. Flowers never bloomed. Rivers turned to ice. Despite existence, life had died. Then came the Sun. He stretched his bright rays out, wrapping the world in warmth. Dawn cracked loving heat all over the earth, thawing death's grasp. Everything was perfect...but you see the Sun was terribly unhappy because he had fallen in love with a silver beauty who called herself the Moon. Each time he rose high into the sky to meet his lover she would vanish. At dawn and dusk their paths would cross, but only for a kiss, only for a heartbeat. Lonely Sun burned brighter and brighter, longing to see her silver face. Moon yearned to feel him reflected on her surface. But that wasn't the tragedy of it all. You see no matter how much warmth the Sun brought, he felt as dim as a faltering flame. The brightest stars are always the loneliest, they say."

She glimpsed his way, focusing on his solemn face. "And what happened?"

Slowly, Adric looked to the sky, "Sometimes they still meet…up there."

"But they can never be together?"

He gently shook his head, "Never. They need each other, after all there is no moon without the sun. What is day without night? What is ice without fire? One without the other becomes less beautiful. But they were too different. They were too far from each other."

Pandora dropped her eyes, "That's a sad story."

Familiar despair scratched his throat and eyes, but it never showed on his face. He wore a mask of stoicism to hide the wounds and he wore it well. "We should get back down there, they'll be wondering where we are."

Without a glance he turned around. Pandora heard his footsteps fade down the hall. Soon they were mere echoes. The coldness of District 6 shot through her body with a sudden shiver. Just before following Adric she lifted her eyes to the sky. The sun was burning through the afternoon frost. Crows were still flying overhead, their raven feathers trimmed in golden light.


	10. I'm a Martyr To a Motion Not My Own

_I'm a Martyr To a Motion Not My Own_

The paint was still wet when they arrived. Charcoal skies promised rain and a coming storm, but for now the winds were calm, the air still. Pandora stepped closer to the wall. Rocks sank under her boots. Up this close she could smell the faint odor of chemicals. Without a smile she pressed a finger to the black paint, staring at her stained fingertips as she drew her hand back.

Although the peacekeepers were holding off the crowds, shouts and screams were bellowing.

"How did this happen!?" a soldier barked, "In broad daylight nonetheless!"

Pandora's hips swayed as she took a few steps back. Once more her eyes took in the sight. Stained on a crumbling red brick wall was the symbol of a bird. It was taller than three of their biggest soldiers and even wider.

Baro was suddenly to her side. His hot breaths were tinged in frost, "What the hell is that?"

She recognized it immediately. Paint rubbed between her fingers as she spoke, "A mockingjay."

"Someone douse this wall in water!" He roared like a bear, "If it doesn't come out then scrub until your hands bleed!"

Screams heightened. District 6 was elated. A phantom rebel had slipped passed the military and given them a symbol of hope.

"No—" she whispered, "Have the soldiers get water from the stream in the woods out there. If you use the water rations it will only fuel the fire."

"I don't care if they die of thirst."

He didn't wait for a reply. Pandora clenched her jaw as he started shouting more commands. They had been in District 6 for two months. So far there had been no riots, only whispers. The quiet had scared Pandora. The quiet was like the dark clouds above them now—the calm before the storm.

"Reyes!" She spun around, a gust of wind blew her hair, "Get the water from the woods."

The soldiers around Baro glanced to her in wide-eyed surprise. Even he looked a little shocked.

"The water is a long ways out, doe eyes, and the paint is drying as we speak."

"You'll give them more of a reason to riot if you cut off clean water. Half the pipes in this District don't work."

"She's right, it won't go over well if we take water rations." a soldier offered.

He kept his eyes on Pandora, "Fine. Pax, Take two other soldiers out there, I want you back as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir."

Jarvis suddenly ran through the line of peacekeepers with a walkie in his hand. He gave Pandora a glance before tossing the device to Baro, "It's Adric."

A flash of lightning shifted her attention to the sky. Cracks of blue light spread through the clouds like electric veins. Almost immediately after, thunder rumbled. The thunder seemed to excite District 6 even more. Their cries were in every gust of wind. No amount of water would be able to wash away the symbol of the mockingjay. The people had already seen it.

A communications officer suddenly appeared, "Reyes, we've been interrogating the suspects for an hour now. No one's saying a thing."

When Pandora looked back she saw Baro's face turn scarlet. He ignored the communications officer for a brief second before giving the device back to Jarvis and turning around.

"What do you mean no one's saying anything?"

"They're refusing to speak, sir."

Baro shrewdly looked to the painted symbol and then back towards the crowd. A cruel smile slowly appeared on his lips, "Fine. Line them up in front of this wall. If they don't start talking shoot them one by one."

Pandora parted her lips, "What?!"

He stared at her, "Adric wants to see you."

"You can't just shoot them," she leaned close to whisper.

"The crowd wants to see a show, let's give them one to remember."

"No—you can't."

"Whose side are you on? They'd beat you bloody if they could. All of them."

Pandora furrowed her brow.

"Let's go, we wouldn't want you to catch a cold in the storm."

It made her skin crawl when he grabbed her arm and started to pull. They had just reached the line of peacekeepers when the men were filed out. Pandora peered over her shoulder and parted her lips. Most of them were young, but a few were older. One soldier pulled his gun out, while another shouted questions to the oldest of the bunch. The man stared ahead.

_Say anything_, she thought, _just save your own skin_.

But he never spoke. A single shot rang out. The last thing Pandora saw before they climbed into the car was the man's body drop to the ground, blood splattered across the mockingjay symbol. The crowd's cries turned to violence as the car sped down the road.

Rain had just started to fall when they pulled into the Victor's Village. Pandora didn't wait for Baro. He called out to her a few times but she never turned back. By the time she reached the operation headquarters she was soaked to the bone. A pool of water followed her footsteps.

Adric was leaning over sketches of something that looked like a barrier when she entered the room. The soldiers around him quieted. Slowly he lifted his eyes, "Pandora, you look pale."

She felt pale.

"What news? Reyes said someone had painted a mockingjay on a wall near the central sector of the District."

Loud footsteps sounded. She felt Baro's shadow without seeing it.

"The scum decided to plaster the symbol of their rebellion on the wall. I've taken care of the matter."

Adric peered from Pandora back to Baro. "How?"

"We tried to get them to talk, they wouldn't. So I solved the problem."

Suddenly Adric understood her expression. "I didn't give those orders."

"I was left with no other options."

"If the crowds didn't have a reason to riot before then they certainly do now," Pandora suddenly spat out, glaring. "He lined them up and shot them…in front of half the District!"

Soldiers shifted uncomfortably, but Adric stayed frozen.

"You may appreciate my actions when you're being mauled to death by those savages out there. Showing the least bit of weakness and hesitation will land you in a world of hurt. I thought you were suppose to be logical."

"I am!"

"So be goddamn logical!"

"That's enough!" Adric's voice could cut through steel, "Get back out there, Reyes. Next time you have anymore bright ideas you ask me first."

"Oh, of course, sir."

Pandora grimaced as he brushed passed her. Her eyes peered to the table.

"You should change your clothing, you'll get sick in those."

"I need to speak with you, Adric."

"It's sir," a soldier nearby corrected. She shot him a look that could kill.

"I can't right now, go on. I'll see you after this."

"No. Now."

Astounded glances passed between the soldiers. Adric nervously loosened the top button of his uniform and sighed, "No."

She drew in a breath and gritted her teeth, but Adric only looked away. He continued speaking as if she wasn't even there. Stubbornly she remained standing. But soon it became clear he was ignoring her altogether and she left, following the trail of water back out into the storm. In such a short amount of time the mud had gathered deep puddles. With every step her boots sank deeper into the mud. The rain felt like ice.

She was nearly halfway across the Victor's Village when Pandora suddenly felt eyes on her. She stopped in her tracks. From where she stood she could see every house. At first her eyes turned back to where the main operations was set up, but there was no one. Several heartbeats passed before she figured out whose eyes were tingling her spin. Her gaze lifted to the victor's house. Standing in the window was the aged victor. Just like the first day she arrived in District 6 the man was standing behind sheer curtains. Their eyes met. Her breath rose into the storm. Though he was far away she could see sadness in every wrinkle of his face. It reminded her of Marius's mother lighting a single candle in honor of her son's life. Pandora stepped forward. Somehow she felt like the man was speaking to her with that solemn gaze of his.

"What are you doing? It's freezing out here!"

Pandora turned to the side. Adric was running towards her. His cheeks and nose turned pink almost immediately.

"You should be inside."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"If this is about what I said back there—"

"It is."

He gulped. Water dripped down his face, "I'm sorry, Pandora. I can't show you favoritism. Most of these soldiers are more experienced than me. They think I'm a team leader because my father is the General. I can't give them a reason to doubt me."

She could taste the rain, "You just let him get away with shooting those people. He didn't even know if they were guilty."

The rain was pouring so hard they had to shout. Another crash of thunder drummed.

"Pandora, I need Reyes. He's strong and fast. I'm not going to punish him and cause unrest throughout the team."

"He murdered them. I don't care about those people, but that was the stupidest thing he could have done."

Adric looked around. He was looking to see if anyone was watching, Pandora knew.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have a choice. It's them or us."

"It's not."

"You know it is."

She stepped back and gripped her hands into fists.

"Pandora—" he gently put his hand on her shoulder, "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm not hurt," her words were like stone, "I'm angry."

Rain fell between them. She could see how tired Adric was, feel the strain. Two months in District 6 had felt like two years.

"Adric!"

His eyes stayed on Pandora. He didn't want to look away.

"Adric—I mean, sir!?"

Jarvis almost slipped in the mud as he shuffled to a stop.

Adric dropped his hand from Pandora's shoulder, "What is it?"

"The people—I—well—"

"Dammit, out with it Jarvis."

"In the core sector of the District, sir. A riot—it's a full on riot—"

Pandora forgot how to breathe.

"When!?"

"Not long. I came as soon as it happened. The communications were worthless because of this storm…we need back up!"

"Alright," he whispered it but there was weight to the softness, "Alright, Jarvis you stay behind with Pandora."

"No! I'm coming!"

She tried to grab Adric's arm but he swatted her away, "I'm telling you to stay behind. That's an order. Jarvis, you got that?"

"Yes, sir."

"No!"

"He'll be back. It'll be fine." Jarvis grabbed Pandora. She was trying to run after Adric, but the soldier had too good of a grip. She gasped for air as she watched Adric disappear into the storm.

Jarvis brought her into the main operations center and threw a towel at her.

After a while it became clear that he was almost as nervous of Pandora. He flipped switches on the communication board and cursed aloud as he tried to work around the static of the storm.

"How long are they supposed to be gone?" She finally asked. It was already starting to get dark out. The storm hadn't let up.

"I don't know," he kept his eyes on the buttons and switches, "It was pretty bad."

"It's because of the executions."

"Yea," she was surprised he agreed, "Reyes is good at killing, not much else. The guy can't tell the difference between a chair and a tree."

She wrapped the towel around her shoulders and licked her lips, "I can fight. You should let me go."

"Sorry, Pandora, orders are orders."

"But I can help."

Jarvis briefly looked at her, "If I let you go Adric would feed me to the crowd."

She pursed her lips, knowing it was true.

"I'm surprised you're even here. I was at the meeting where he demanded you be left in the Capitol."

"I guess he wasn't persuasive enough."

He laughed, reworking some wires, "So much fuss over you. And there was the incident with Lilas."

She furrowed her brow, "What?"

"Oh—nothing—it's really just funny."

He gave the communications another try. Still static.

"What was funny?"

"Oh you know, Lilas found your bracelet. Wrong place wrong time for me. I was just with him when she decided to bring it up. She thought he was seeing someone else."

Pandora grabbed her bare wrist in confusion.

"My bracelet?"

"Yea, Adric said it was his mother's…but I knew who it really belonged to," he put a screwdriver in his mouth and messed his face up, "I remembered it from when you were a tribute in the games. God knows you were televised enough. I didn't say anything, of course."

The memory made her lips part in realization. The bracelet Dash had given her. Only now did she remember it. A silver bracelet with the tiny figure of a tree dangling from it. He had told Pandora it would help her never forget District 7, _so much for that_. And now somehow Adric had it.

Static broke. Voice suddenly screamed through the speakers sending Jarvis high into the air in surprise, "Aha!" he shouted adjusting the dials, "I think I got something."

Pandora quickly forgot about the bracelet and focused on the sounds that were blasting through the white noise.

"Pax this is Jarvis, do you read me?"

Static for a moment, "I read—"

"The reception is bad…" he whispered, "Pax, how is everything going over there?!"

Instead of a reply gunshots bellowed. Pandora widened her eyes.

"Pax! Can you hear me!?"

Static and more gunshots.

"It's probably….it's probably just some of our soldiers. I think."

She shook her head, "Can you get a hold of anyone else?"

Something was wrong. Her hands started to tremble. Near the edge of the table a gun was fully load and waiting.

"Maybe if…maybe if I try reworking the wires…" he mumbled to himself.

She twitched her eyes between the gun and the exit. Slowly she started to move closer. Jarvis didn't notice the movements, he was too engrossed in the electronics. Once her hand was wrapped around the butt of the handgun she wiggled her toes.

_Be fast_, she told herself, _he won't be able to catch you_.

Calmly Pandora counted down.

5…4…

He wasn't even looking at her. This would be simple.

3…2…

Her muscles tensed.

1.

Pandora held her breath as she broke into a run. She was well into the hallway before Jarvis knew what hit him. She scrambled for the door and threw it open. Outside gale force winds were blowing and torrential showers hammered her skin. The mud splattered around her boots as she bolted into the night.


End file.
